


The Luckiest Often Fail

by fallenangels22



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Blue Spirit Zuko (Avatar), Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Character Death, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko Joins The Gaang Early (Avatar), Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:41:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27677530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenangels22/pseuds/fallenangels22
Summary: Azula always lies.But...what if she never had the chance to?After his father tries to do the unthinkable, Zuko flees the Fire Nation, and ends up in the Earth Kingdom, left to fend for himself.
Relationships: Azula & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar) & Original Character(s)
Comments: 51
Kudos: 416
Collections: A:tla





	1. Princes Do Not Beg

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, yet another generic Zuko being adopted by everyone who meets him. But only for the first few chapters. I'm also going to focus on our favorite Fire Nation Princess.

In one timeline, Princess Azula and Prince Zuko hid behind a curtain, listening in to an important conversation their father and grandfather were having. Their tiny faces peeked out, watching the exchange with misplaced excitement. When their father asks treasonous things, Zuko flees, scared of what’s to come next. 

Azula did not. 

In another, this did not happen. 

* * *

Zuko knew he shouldn’t have agreed to stay behind with Azula. Nothing good ever came out of listening to Azula. At least, not for him. 

Intently, he watched his father and grandfather. His father was on his knees, in a deep bow. A sign of respect.

“Father, you must have realized as I have, that with the death of Lu Ten, Iroh’s bloodline has ended. After his son’s death, my brother abandoned the siege of Ba Sing Se, and who knows when he’ll return. But I am here, Father, and my children are alive.” 

Zuko stiffened. 

“Say what it is you want!” The Firelord roared, the fire around the throne soaring higher. 

The second oldest Prince’s face stayed impassive. 

“Father, revoke Iroh’s birthright. I am your humble servant, here to serve you and our nation. Use me.”

“You dare suggest I betray Iroh? My first born? Directly after the demise of his only beloved son? I think Iroh has suffered enough! But you ... your punishment has scarcely begun!” 

The fire around the throne flared, the Firelord’s disgruntled face barely visible. 

In an exceedingly common moment of fear, Zuko ran from behind the curtain. Azula watched him leave, and debated her options. She could stay and witness the ending of this conversation—Father suggested something absolutely treasonous, and she wanted to see the conclusion—or she could leave with Zuko. She wasn’t going to lie, the first option was much more tempting, but there were possible repercussions. Not that she would get caught, no of course not, but Zuko would be. Father would punish Zuko and be done with it, but Grandfather would know that Zuko wouldn’t have the guts to hide behind the curtain himself. 

_Grandfather would know it was her._

It wasn’t a risk she wanted to take. Her brother was an idiot, and she couldn’t rely on him not to mess up. 

So, as Zuko scurried out of the room, she followed him. 

She did not hear the order. 

She did not tell her brother. 

* * *

Zuko sat on his bed, the sheets crumpled beneath him. He tucked his knees close to his chest, while rocking back and forth. 

_Father asked Grandfather for Uncle’s birthright._

The Fire Nation was strict. One did as they were told. It was how things worked. A Second-Born Prince did not ask for the Fire Throne. It simply wasn’t done. There is no strength in a broken nation. 

_It was...treasonous._

Zuko shuddered at the thought, his tiny frame shaking. He didn’t want Father to die, as that was usually the punishment for such an act. He was taught from a young age: do as you are told. Father went against everything he was told. He did the unthinkable. 

Zuko couldn’t fathom how Father could be so bold. Or heartless. 

Lu Ten just died, his death still a wound on Zuko’s heart. He loved his cousin. Almost everyone who met him did. 

Lu Ten was just like that. Zuko wanted to be like that. He wanted people to like him. He wanted people to love him. 

Like his father for example. Father loved Azula, who was perfect in almost every way. A prodigy in firebending..

_(“I’ve never seen blue fire exhibited at such a young age. Or, at all. It’s extremely rare, Your Highness. It’s remarkable. It’s impressive The Princess is surely a prodigy.”_

_Father nodded, surprise not showing on his impassive face. However, something like pride sparkled in his eyes._

_“What about the boy?” He asked, disinterest evident in his tone._

_“The Prince...the Prince is lacking in the areas his sister exceeds in. He is sloppy and unfocused. His sister, however, is showing signs of great promise."_

_“I see.”_ )

A prodigy in strategy, and all her subjects at school. If there was a singular word that described Azula, it would be prodigy. Father went on and on about how _special,_ and _talented_ Azula was. 

After all, she was born lucky, and he _was lucky to be born._

It wasn’t fair. Zuko deserved his Father’s love just as much as Azula. At least, he thought so. He might not be good at firebending, or strategy, or history, but he was good with his dual blades. Lu Ten said he might be able to become a master one day. 

_(Zuko wiped the sweat off his forehead. His arms were heavy from repeating the last drill over and over again. He wanted it perfected. Master Piandao always said that he needed to practice if he wanted his form to be perfect._

_“Wow Zuko. That was impressive, can you do it again?”_

_Zuko whipped his head around, only to see his cousin leaning against a tree, watching him intently._

_“You...want me to do it again?” Zuko asked, slightly dizzy. He didn’t know anyone was watching him._

_“Yeah, of course. I tried to learn the dual blades, but I never mastered it. I’m really impressed, Zuko.” Lu Ten said, a smile present._

_Zuko’s cheeks heated up, a blush spreading across his face. “Yeah, yeah. I'll try to do it again if you want.”_

_“I do.” Lu Ten nodded._

_Zuko fixed his stance, and repeated the form. He wanted to show Lu Ten how much he studied. And, if Azula happened to be watching in the shadows, it was only a bonus.)_

“Zuko?” At the door, his mother stood. She raised her eyebrow at the state of his sheets. “Why aren’t you sleeping yet?” 

“Um…” Zuko trailed off. “Constipation?” 

His mother shook her head, a soft ‘tsk’ sound coming out of her mouth. “You’re so silly, Turtleduck.” 

“Mom don’t call me Turtleduck. It’s embarrassing.” Zuko pouted, jutting his lower lip out for the full effect. 

“You’re right. You’re much too old for me to be calling you Turtleduck. In fact, you’re so old that you don’t need me to kiss you goodnight.” Ursa tilted her head, her eyes wide. 

Zuko panicked. “NO, I mean...no. I’m not too old for goodnight kisses.” 

Ursa laughed, and leaned over to tickle his feet. “I didn’t think so. No one can resist my goodnight kisses.” 

Zuko blushed. “MOM.” 

“Yes?”

Zuko bit his lip. “Do you think Grandfather will kill Father?” 

Ursa straightened her spine, and her smile disappeared almost immediately. “What?”

“I mean…” He upset his mother. “I’m sorry.”

Ursa placed her hands up. “No..you didn’t upset me, but why would you ask such a thing?”

Zuko frowned. “Because Father asked for Uncle’s birthright because Lu Ten died.” 

Ursa took a deep breath, her face strangely passive. Zuko thought he heard her mutter something like, _‘this is the most idiotic thing_ he _has ever done,’_ but he wasn’t sure. 

“Zuko?” She finally asked, as she walked towards the door. Zuko said nothing as she reached the doorframe. He chased her away. He upset her. Father always said he couldn’t do anything right. 

“Zuko.” She repeated, her head turned towards him. 

“Yes Mom?” He answered. 

“Stay here, and go to sleep. I’m going to go do something.”

“Okay Mom. Love you.”

“I love you too, Turtleduck.” Ursa gave him a tight smile. She squeezed his shoulders, and exited the room. 

Ursa left as quick as she came. 

Determined to do as she said, Zuko tucked himself. 

He shut his eyes. 

_Father is going to be fine. He’s going to be fine._

* * *

Zuko couldn’t fall asleep. 

The branches scratched his windows, the servants scurried past his door, and his breathing was too loud. 

Everything was too _loud_. 

Zuko grabbed his pillow and pulled it over his head. He needed to sleep. His mom told him to stay put, and go to sleep. 

A floorboard creaked outside his door. A servant must’ve been in a hurry. 

Except, no. It wasn’t a servant. 

The door opened slightly, and a man stepped inside. 

Zuko held in a breath. Hundreds of scenarios, each worse than the last ran through his head. 

_Is it an assassin?_ His mother had taught him different holds, and tricks to get out of an assassin’s grasp, in case the guards were too late. Some of the holds weren’t as honorable as they could be, but she told him that his life was worth more than a few dirty tactics. He still wasn’t going to use those ones, though. He was as honorable as they came. 

“Prince Zuko?” 

Zuko let out a breath. 

_It was Father._ His grandfather hadn’t executed him. Zuko mentally smacked himself. Of course his Grandfather wouldn’t kill his own son. What kind of person would do that? 

Zuko idly watched his father close the door. 

Usually, Father didn’t come to say goodnight to Zuko. Or, actually, Zuko couldn’t think of a single time. His Father probably felt sad because Lu Ten died, and wanted to make sure he was safe. Or something. 

“Yes, Father?” Zuko responded, sitting up in bed. 

“It was a great shame.” His father replied, not looking directly at Zuko, but rather, past his head. 

“What was?” Zuko asked.

“In the middle of the night, as he slept, Prince Zuko was murdered by Earth Kingdom assassins. He barely got to live before the Earth Kingdom snuffed his fire out.” His father stalked towards him, the shadows under his eyes becoming more prominent. His Father looked like a monster from a horror play. Except, his father wouldn’t hurt him. His mind knew that, but his body didn’t. His pulse sped up to the point where Zuko could almost feel it thrumming against his skin. 

“What?” Zuko couldn’t help but be mildly confused. He was still alive, sitting in his bed. 

“This will forever remain, a tragedy.” 

Ozai moved to grab Zuko. Zuko didn’t move out of his way. Ozai roughly grabbed his arm, and forced him down. Zuko stumbled before he fell. 

Ozai stood over the boy, his hand holding a flame. The flame didn’t flicker, and the orange light illuminated the room. Zuko didn’t fear fire. 

Fire was beautiful, and full of passion. Even when Azula set almost all his toys on fire, he was only annoyed. Never fearful. 

Now, with his father holding his palm out, a large flame consuming almost all of his father's hand, Zuko’s heart sped up yet again, and he heard the blood rushing to his head. 

“Father..?” Zuko asked, his voice barely audible. 

His father turned his head around, and the fire in his hand extinguished. Zuko let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

Zuko was on his knees, staring up at his father. 

Prince Ozai, the second-born son of Firelord Azulon, looked at his son. Tenderly, he cupped Zuko’s cheek. 

Zuko didn’t understand what was happening, or why his father was acting the way he was. 

And so when Prince Ozai set his son’s face on fire, Zuko didn’t understand the searing pain. 

Agony wasn’t the proper word to describe what Zuko felt in that moment. His face was burning off, his skin melting like wax. The smell of burning flesh filled his room. 

His father stopped once the left side of his face became numb. 

“Hmm,” He grabbed Zuko’s arms, lifting him upwards, to get a better look at his face. “This should do. The corpse may need to be disposed of, however. Earthbenders can’t use fire.” 

Tears streamed down his right cheek. He could barely stay conscious. The edges of his vision began to blur. 

_Why was Father doing this to him?_

“Do not cry, Prince Zuko.” His father sneered, catching sight of the tear drops on his face. “Your sacrifice won’t be in vain.” 

His father repositioned his hand onto Zuko’s face, determined on reaching the skull. 

Zuko didn’t sit still this time. He kicked back, determined not to have his face set on fire again. The pain was _too much. He didn’t want to feel the fire again._

A well placed kick hit Ozai in the shin. Momentarily stunned, the Prince dropped his hold on his son. 

Zuko took his chance, and he ran. He tried to open his door, but the handle slipped from his grasp. His hands were coated in blood, and he couldn’t get a grip on the knob. 

“Open...please...open..” He pleaded. 

Like a vengeful spirit, his father cornered him. 

“That was very disrespectful, Prince Zuko. But, what could I possibly expect from you? You are worthless, and untalented compared to your sister. Once I’m Firelord, Azula will be my heir.” 

Zuko stumbled, his back against the door. 

“Please, Father..” Zuko cried. 

Prince Ozai snarled at his son, nothing but disdain across his features. 

“I knew you were weak, Prince Zuko,” His father stated, his lip twisted in a sneer. “ _Princes do not beg_.” 


	2. The Kid's Not Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jikai prided himself on his ability to get the job done. 
> 
> Zuko can't process what is happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Logically, I know Ozai wouldn't have scarred Zuko, but another part of me needs Zuko to have his scar. Character purposes.  
> Oh, and sorry about any confusion surrounding the chapter numbers last time. It was a mistake on my part. Also, the first of the oc's show up! A necessary one, who we probably won't see in the future.  
> Exposition alert!

Out of all the jobs Jikai has ever done, this was always going to be the hardest. 

Not everyday did Jikai get a job from the Prince himself. This job was going to be the most important one he's ever done. He could feel it. He spent the day sharpening his best knives. Whomever the Prince wanted dead was going to die by his hand. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. 

Serving the great nation was every citizens’ dream. Jikai may not be as patriotic as the rest of his family, seeing as he couldn’t firebend, but he still had that _Fire Nation pride_. 

Jikai snorted. He had as much pride as an assassin could have. He didn’t like calling himself an assassin, considering it was mostly illegal, but it was the best title for the job he had. Jikai liked to say he was ‘ _tying up loose ends with very sharp tools,’_ but he wasn’t naive. He knew what his job truly was. 

His family never approved of his line of work—how could they, _he killed people_ —but war was war. Everyone died eventually. He could never figure out why he shouldn’t make money off of that. Death was a natural occurrence, whether or not his knives were involved. 

Besides, he didn’t see them all too much. He cut ties with them. Safer for him, and for them. His father wouldn’t stop spouting nonsense about honor, and Jikai’s apparent lack of it. Jikai couldn’t care less for his father’s idiocy. 

Honor didn’t stop earthbenders from killing over half of his entire family. 

His services were frequently bought by nobles, usually requiring him to silence their political opposition. 

He was never conscripted to fight in the foolish war, since his family paid off a few government officials. Perks of being wealthy, he supposed. 

Prince Ozai had mentioned the meeting spot being outside the palace, just past the courtyards. As Jikai waited underneath the trees, avoiding being seen, he saw his employer. 

Prince Ozai knew how to disguise himself when needed, it appeared. Clothed in head to toe black, no one would’ve seen him in the dead of night. 

Over his shoulder, laid a limp body. Quite smaller than Prince Ozai himself. Jikai couldn’t see very well, but he was sure half of the person’s face was rotted. All gnarly and bloody. Jikai couldn’t imagine what could make someone’s face look that way. 

“Hayashi Jikai?” The second oldest Prince asked, his voice monotone. “I heard you’re the best in your line of work..or so they say.” 

“Yes, your Highness?” Jikai bowed deeply. Even if this was an informal meeting by all accounts, respect was necessary. 

“I see you came prepared.” Prince Ozai gestured to the many knives adorning Jikai’s body. “Good.”

Jikai pursed his lips, taking note of all the Prince’s movements. “What may I do for you, my Prince?”

Prince Ozai dropped the extra body onto the ground, right before Jikai’s feet. The boy—as Jikai now clearly saw—rolled over, showcasing his injury to Jikai. Jikai was no firebender, but he had seen burns. This kid had been intentionally burned, and he was near death. Jikai nostrils stung from the smell of burnt flesh. 

“I want you to dispose of the body,” Prince Ozai said, unbothered by the putrid sight. “I want him gone before morning.” 

“You want me to act as a body disposal service, your Highness?” 

“Watch your tone,” The Prince warned. “I will not tolerate disrespect. You are to deliver the boy to the Earth Kingdom, where his corpse will be discovered by near troops. Or Earth Kingdom simpletons. Makes no difference to me.” 

The boy could be no older than twelve. Jikai resisted the urge to puke. He had seen many, many gruesome and gory deaths, but they were all adults. They were all guilty. Nothing this child could have done could be as bad as their crimes. 

None of his victims were ever children. 

He didn’t want to start now. 

“Isn’t this...isn’t this the youngest Prince?” Jikai asked aloud. The kid had the signature Fire Nation look. Pale skin, dark hair. If he were to open his eyes, Jikai is certain they’d be gold in colour. 

He poked the boy with his shoe, clearly getting a view of his non-scarred side. The kid looked exactly like the elder Prince. This must’ve been the youngest Prince, Lu Ten. Or was it La Teen? He could never remember. 

No, it was Zuko. 

“Prince Zuko?”

If Jikai remembered correctly, this was Prince Ozai’s _son._

“Not anymore. Prince Zuko was never worthy of his title, nor his bloodline. He was weak.” The elder Prince said, his tone flat. Jikai noticed the use of past tense when speaking about his son. “I have prepared a ship for you to leave the port in. Take his corpse somewhere, anywhere. I don’t care.” 

Jikai picked up the boy, who was as light as a feather. The boy’s wet breathing and coughs were audible to both Jikai and Prince Ozai, yet only Jikai winced. The boy was on the brink of death. Jikai wouldn’t even have to lift a finger. 

“Father…” The kid mumbled, his voice quieter than a whisper. “It hurts…” 

“As you wish, your Highness. It shall be done.” Jikai replied, as he flung the weak child over his shoulder. 

“Good,” Prince Ozai said, as he reached into his pocket. The Prince laid his palm out, a bag of gold displayed. “Here is your payment. That should suffice for someone like you.” 

Jikai snatched the bag from the Prince. At the end of the day, it was just another job. _Money was still money._

“The Prince will be gone before sunrise.” Jikai agreed. “You have my word.” 

“See to it that he is. I wouldn’t want something unfortunate to happen to you..or your family, Hayashi Jikai.” 

Jikai nodded. He knew a thinly veiled threat when he heard one. The Prince would be gone by morning. 

“It will be done.” 

* * *

Jikai waited patiently at the dock, the Prince in hand. The ship Prince Ozai promised hadn’t arrived yet. 

“Hayashi Jikai?” Someone called out. “Is there a Hayashi Jikai over there?” 

“Yes?” Jikai answered, following the sound of the original voice. Standing outside of a rickety, barely put together ship, a man stood, his badge signifying his rank as a captain. Jikai did a double take, because this couldn’t possibly be the ship Prince Ozai wanted him to use. Jikai couldn’t see any other ship in the dock, however. 

This was the ship he was supposed to use. 

“We have your ship here. It’ll take you to the outer islands, but that’s about it.” The man said, as he rubbed his eye. 

“This is the ship Prince Ozai wants me to use?” Jikai couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice. “Is he serious?” 

The other man didn’t bat an eyelash. “Yes. I was told you were transporting very important cargo, and this is what you were to use.” 

Jikai snarled at the man. “He should’ve gotten me a better ship. How does he expect this piece of junk to fare against the sea?” 

Jikai wouldn’t live to see Agni’s rays again if he went in that ship. Along with the Prince, he’d die a watery death. What was the Prince thinking with this ship? Jikai wouldn’t survive...unless that was the point. The Prince and his would-be assassin drowned at sea. It worked as a cover story if they didn’t reach enemy territory. 

_That bastard._

The man merely shrugged, unbothered by Jikai’s tantrum. “Not well, I’d imagine. If I were you, kid, I’d get a different ship. If you know what I mean.” 

“I don’t think I can.” Jikai growled, the Prince murmuring mindlessly against him. “Damn it.” 

“Then you’re screwed.” 

“Thanks.” 

* * *

Jikai had very few options. 

He could kill the Prince, and throw his body into the water. Eventually, the Prince would wash ashore, and some unfortunate Fire Nation citizen would find him. 

But...Jikai didn’t want to kill the Prince, and he didn’t think he could. He couldn’t kill a kid, it just wasn’t something he could do. He’d been hired to dispose of the boy, but he didn’t think he could. The boy would die from an infection. Jikai wouldn’t have to dirty any of his knives. 

Prince Zuko probably wasn’t even thirteen yet, and his father wanted him dead.

“Father?” The boy mumbled into Jikai’s side. Jikai placed the boy down, allowing him space to slump over. From this position, Jikai could see the wound much better. It was ugly and gross and terrible. Jikai had seen third degree burns before, and this was one of the worst he’d ever seen. Did Prince Ozai just press a torch to the kid’s face? “I’m sorry...I’ll do better next time….I’ll be like Azula…” 

The kid was clearly experiencing a nightmare. He thrashed, and kicked in all directions. “Father...stop....stop burning me….stop!” He cried, tears streaming down the right side of his face. Jikai wasn’t sure what to do. He could comfort the kid, but that might wake him up. Then again, letting this run its course might wake the kid up anyway. 

“Uh, there there.” Jikai awkwardly patted the kid’s shoulder. He didn’t know how to be _‘soothing.’_ “You’ll be fine, Prince Zuko.” 

Through bleary eyes, the Prince looked up at him. There was no sign of recognition on his face. “Father? Is that you?” 

Jikai didn’t respond. He had a creeping feeling that this was going to be an uncomfortable conversation. 

Zuko sighed. “I know it’s you Father, and I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

Jikai watched the Prince apologize absentmindedly. 

“I’m sure you will,” Jikai replied, a numb feeling spreading through his head. 

“I’ll be as good as Azula. I’ll make you proud.” 

Jikai couldn’t stomach it. The kid didn’t deserve to be spouting nonsense right before he died. Gently, he moved the Prince over, so he could pressure point his neck. It wasn’t sleep, but it was close enough. 

The kid’s chest moved up and down, in rapid motions. It would be all too easy to just slit his throat now, and let him die. All Jikai had to do was take out his knife, and do what he was paid to. Seeing the kid curl in on himself, his right side facing the port, his left tucked into the crook of his arm, Jikai couldn’t help but wonder. Wonder what might’ve been had this kid not been royalty, had his father not burned half his face off. Jikai didn’t know the hardships this kid had faced. The boy was a Prince; how hard could his life have possibly been? He had servants, chefs, anything he could have wanted. The world would be better off without him if the boy’s father himself wanted him dead. 

Jikai grabbed one of his knives, and pressed the blade against the skin of Zuko’s neck. He could dig a little deeper. He’d done this many times before. 

No. Jikai couldn’t kill him, but he couldn’t save him either. 

He stretched his arms, and lifted the Prince back over his shoulder. 

He’d find a way. 

* * *

The next ship out of Caldera was a cargo ship, filled with supplies for the Fire Nation soldiers on the front line. It led to the Earth Kingdom, the colonies in specific. 

Jikai was going to sneak the boy onto it. Most times, there were medical officers onboard the cargo ships. Jikai didn’t know whether or not they would even treat Prince Zuko, but it was his best chance. He prayed that the boy wouldn’t reveal his name. If they knew they had the Prince aboard their ship...he didn’t want to think about what could happen to _him_ if the boy was found alive. Luckily, he didn’t look much like a Prince anymore, with the giant burn covering half his face. No one would believe him. 

And so Jikai hid the Prince behind the crates of food, and never looked back. The prince’s fate was up to the Spirits’ to decide. 

When the sun rose, the Prince was gone. 

Jikai stayed true to his word. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jikai will not make another appearance, most likely. I don't need him to :)  
> Onto Zuko's adventures in the Earth Kingdom.


	3. Wake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ship filled with young, impressionable soldiers isn't the worst place to wake up, but it's certainly not the best.  
> Sometimes, you have to take the deck you're dealt, no matter how awful it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the sleeping Prince wakes! :)

Something smelled _really_ bad. Zuko’s nostrils burned, and it wasn’t a nice sensation. Weirdly enough, the smell was only prominent on the right, and not the left. In fact, the left side of his face felt...off. Numb, yet not. 

Absentmindedly, Zuko reached to touch his face. His fingers trailed along the skin, which had an almost leathery feel to it. He knew he was touching his face, yet he couldn’t feel anything. The left side of his face was numb, and ruined. He knew a burn when he felt one. 

He had a burn on his face. He tried opening his left eye, but couldn’t. It was like it was sealed shut by a strong adhesive. 

A burn from his father. Father burned him, scarred him for life. His face bore a mark of shame, and disgrace. He didn’t know why. Was it because he messed up his form in front of Grandfather? Did his father see the need to punish him, and this was his consequence?

His entire body ached, and he could tell he wasn’t on his bed. The floorboards, made mostly of rotting wood _(that must’ve been where the smell was coming from-)_ that squeaked when he moved, ever so slightly. The bed, or rather poorly stuck together mattress, was leaning against the side of the room, and the wall was dripping wet. The droplets fell slowly, giving the illusion of a crying ceiling, or maybe Zuko had _finally_ lost his mind. 

_It wasn’t that unlikely, really_. 

His Father would never, _ever_ , hurt him, and Zuko’s own mind tricked him. If you couldn’t trust yourself, who could you trust? 

_No one._

He wasn’t in the palace anymore. He didn’t even know if he was in the Fire Nation. This room...it looked like a medicinal room, an infirmary of sorts, but Zuko couldn’t be sure. He didn’t know where he was, or why he was there. Maybe once the plain walls had white plaster on them. Years of poor maintenance and neglect had destroyed whatever aesthetic this room had going for itself. 

His breathing sped up, and his heart beat faster with every short gasp. He must’ve sounded like a mewling animal, crying out in pain. 

“Where am I?” Zuko thought aloud. At least, he thought he said it aloud. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his pulse. His breaths were coming out ragged, and his right eye blurred. His bottom lip trembled. “Where am I?”

His tantrum had attracted the attention of a soldier passing by the medical room. 

“Hey, the kid’s awake.” A voice rang throughout Zuko’s head. He couldn’t pinpoint it’s exact location, but he could’ve sworn it came from his left. “Looks like I won the bet.”

Zuko sat upright, and he scanned the room quickly, checking for the source of the voice. Near the doorway on the furthest wall, was a younger man, watching Zuko with raised eyebrows. His uniform placed him as a lower ranking soldier, probably a private. 

His features were distinctly Fire Nation, not Earth Kingdom or Water Tribe. Zuko nearly cried from relief. 

“Shut up, Kendri.” A second man called, not far behind the first one—Kendri. “No one actually bet on anything.” 

“I smell big fat lies!” Kendri exclaimed, his hand thrown over his heart. “Everyone put money into the betting pool. Everybody.” 

The other soldier shrugged. “We’re all optimists. We knew he would wake up.”

“Optimists? You complained about enlistment for eighteen years! You're twenty!”

Zuko clutched his head, the bickering between the two soldiers inducing a headache. “Stop.” He complained, his free hand rubbing his temple. “ _Just stop talking so loudly_.” 

“You heard him, Kendri. No one cares about your money.” The second one snorted, watching with idle amusement as Kendri went red in the face. “You’re too greedy for your own good.” 

“Well...you shut up, too. Your voice alone probably caused the poor kid an aneurysm.” Kendri whispered vehemently, but it was to no avail, as Zuko still heard every word. 

“I’m surprised you haven’t had your tongue cut out yet, Kendri. I can help you with that.” 

“I’m surprised that Captain Yera hasn’t thrown you off the ship yet, Surin, as I certainly would’ve.” 

Zuko scrunched what was left of his face. 

He had no clue where he was, and he didn’t know these soldiers. They looked the part of random Fire Nation soldiers, that much was true. Zuko had been taught what features marked a pure Fire Nation citizen. Dark hair, and bright brown eyes, sometimes gold. Then again, these two could be kidnappers, playing up the dumb act to confuse him into letting his guard down. He couldn’t take any chances. 

“Get away from me,” Zuko hissed as the second soldier, Surin, came closer, a cloth in hand. 

Surin raised his eyebrows, mimicking Kendri’s expression from earlier. “He’s really mouthy, isn’t he?” 

“You didn’t notice?” The first soldier snorted. “He told you to shut up, like three times.” 

“No,” The other one paused. “He told _you_ to shut up three times.” 

“I think I would know whether or not he was speaking to me-”

“You wouldn’t know it if he screamed into your ear.”

“-and react accordingly. Hey!” 

Zuko listened to the exchange as best he could, but all the sounds were muffled, like his head was under water. 

“OW!” One of the two men dabbed something on his face, and it burned. It was cold and hot at the same time, painful and soothing. “Get that off my face.” 

“I’m pretty sure you don’t actually want that. This is covered in an ointment,” Surin said, continuing to press the wet cloth on Zuko’s face. “If I were to stop, you’d die of an infection.” 

“What?” Zuko must’ve heard him wrong. There was no way he could die, was there? He was only eleven; he hadn’t even experienced _anything_ yet. He hadn’t mastered his firebending, he didn’t even finish training with his duo swords. He never even got to say goodbye to his mom. He wondered what his mom thought right now. Did she wonder where he was? Did she care? Would Father tell her not to worry, and aleve her well-placed fears? 

Then, there was the issue of Father. Obviously, Father wasn’t the one who scarred him. Zuko had been to enough plays to know that’s not how life worked. Clearly, that was an assassin in disguise. He must’ve studied his Father from afar and learned the best way to trick Zuko. Clever, yet underhanded. Just like the villains in his favourite stories. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, Kid,” Kendri started, pulling Zuko out of his thoughts. “How’d you get such a massive burn? You don’t look sixteen, like at all, so it couldn’t have been from a commanding officer.” 

“First off, my name isn’t ‘Kid,’ it’s Zuko,” Zuko corrected. 

“Like the Prince?” Surin applied another layer of the cream onto his face, and grabbed a patch of bandages from a nearby table. "Prince Zuko? Prince Ozai's eldest, right?"

“I am the Prince.” Zuko replied curtly. 

“Yeah,” Kendri laughed. “And I’m Fire Lord Azulon. Bow down before me, peasant.” 

Even Surin let out a chuckle at that. Zuko didn’t see what was so funny. Kendri was a soldier, undoubtedly a young one, and Fire Lord Azulon was nearing one hundred. Besides, he couldn’t _actually_ believe that Zuko wouldn’t recognize _his own grandfather._

Zuko hated it when people treated him as dumber than he was just because Azula was smarter. It didn’t matter that she got perfect in every subject they were tutored in. She didn’t care about what they learned, but Zuko did.

He absorbed the information like a sponge; except that Azula was a better sponge. If that made sense. 

He didn’t understand the analogy, either. It sounded like something his Uncle Iroh would say. That man _loved_ his proverbs. 

Zuko frowned despite the discomfort it caused him. “You’re not Fire Lord Azulon.”

“Well, duh. I was being sarcastic.” 

Surin held his hand up, silencing Kendri. “Zuko….how did you get this burn? It looks too big and angry to simply be an accident or a surface level mark.” 

Zuko paused. “My father gave it to me. I think.” 

Surin gasped, and Kendri’s jaw dropped. Both exchanged looks that Zuko couldn’t decipher. 

“Could you repeat that please?” Surin asked, voice wavering slightly.

“My father gave it to me.” Zuko responded, his tone too cheery for anyone’s liking. 

“Your father burned you?” It was worded like a question, but Kendri practically screamed it. “Your _father_?” 

“Yes,” Zuko answered. He didn’t understand why the soldier yelled. Yelling meant someone was angry, and Zuko hadn’t insulted their honor or anything, so what did they have to be mad about? “It was a punishment.” 

Surin eyed Kendri from the side, his mouth open. He seemed to be mouthing words, but Zuko couldn’t make any of them out. 

“For what? What could you have possibly done that resulted in him burning half your face off?” Kendri asked, voice quiet, but not in a soft way. “What could a ten year old-”

“Eleven.”

“-eleven year old kid have done to warrant that? That burn is worse than when Adima made out with her teapot, and Surin, that was _bad_.” 

"I know," Surin agreed, quietly. "I know."

Zuko thought for a second. He couldn’t remember exactly what he did to get Father so mad; he was so, so sure Azula and him hadn’t been caught when they hid behind the curtains. Maybe it was because he embarrassed him in front of the Fire Lord. That seemed more likely. 

“I embarrassed him,” Zuko settled on, pleased with his answer. “I messed up like I always do.” 

“Let me get this straight,” Kendri said. “Your father burned and mutilated you because you embarrassed him? I swear to Agni some nobles are so pretentious. Who burns their own kid?” 

“That’s so messed up,” Surin agreed, eyes resting on the left side of Zuko’s face. “No one deserves that. Not even you, Kendri.” 

“I deserved it. I won’t have you disrespecting Father.” Zuko spat, frustrated on his father’s behalf. These peasants knew nothing of his family, of his father. Not really. All they knew were the basics that the general public knew. “He’s an honorable man.”

“No.” 

“What?” Zuko asked. 

“No, he’s not. He sounds like the kind of scum that makes me ashamed to be Fire Nation.” 

“That’s treasonous.” Zuko whispered, eyes wide. “You can’t say those kinds of things.” 

“I’ll say whatever I want to. It’s not like we’re going to survive this deployment anyway.” Kendri snorted. “I understand what it means when a group of non-benders is sent to deal with rogue Earthbenders.” 

"Earthbenders?" Zuko echoed.

“Kendri,” Surin hissed. “Stop. Don’t burden him with your troubles.” 

“Don’t burden him?” Kendri snarled. “What do you think will happen to him once we reach the Earth Kingdom?” 

“Earth Kingdom?” Zuko echoed again. “We’re going to the _Earth Kingdom_?” 

“Yes.” Both men responded. 

Zuko sucked in a breath, the pounding in his head returning. He couldn’t go to the _Earth Kingdom,_ he needed to be in the _Fire Nation._ He was wrong to trust these traitors, they were leading him away so they could kill him. He was going to die. If only he was like Azula, he would’ve seen this coming a mile away. He would’ve manipulated them before they had the chance to manipulate him. 

But he wasn’t like Azula. He was stupid, and dumb, and weak. That’s why Father burned him. To teach him a lesson; how to be strong. His father was right, Princes do not beg. He got on his knees and begged, like a fool. He brought shame to his family. 

And...he was going to die. 

“Woah,” Surin raised his hands up in front of Zuko’s face. “I told you not to say anything, Kendri.” 

Kendri shrugged. “It’s not my fault he can’t handle the truth-”

“ _Kendri._ ”

“Fine! I’m sorry, alright? Maybe you should focus on the _kid_ instead of me? I’m not the one having a mini heart attack.” 

Tears streamed down the right side of Zuko’s face, the faint taste of salt in his mouth. The room swayed underneath his gaze. Was Kendri right? Was he having a heart attack? It didn’t feel like that; he thought heart attacks were supposed to make your face droop or something. No, he felt like the room was closing in, and getting ready to swallow him up. His breathing became painful, each breath he drew in more painful than the last. 

Sweat rolled down his forehead. He bit his lip until he tasted the familiar metallic flavour of blood. 

“Hey,” Surin poked Zuko’s shoulder blade. “Take deep breaths. You’re going to try and match my breathing, okay?” 

Zuko nodded along to what the soldier said. It made sense. Zuko steadied himself by grabbing onto the nearest object—a rickety table. He took in a shaky breath, and tried to match Surin’s steady breathing. It was hard, and he couldn’t focus. Slowly, he calmed himself. _It’s like firebending,_ he reasoned, _which comes from the breath. Have to keep the breaths steady._

He managed to achieve a slower pace, close to Surin’s breathing pattern. 

“Good job.” Surin amended, patting Zuko on the back. “Why don’t we bandage you up? You’re going to feel the full brunt of that burn soon enough. I’m assuming it’s some kind of shock that’s stopping it now.” 

“O-okay.” Zuko agreed. 

“Good.” Surin smiled. He reached to his side, and grabbed a roll of gauze. “Go tell Captain Yera the good news, Kendri.” 

“Sure,” Kendri looked back at Zuko before he exited the room. “Take care, your _Highness._ ” 

Kendri left Surin to attend to Zuko’s face. Zuko sat as still as he could when Surin wrapped the bandages around his head. 

“Okay,” Surin paused. “You should take a nap. I’ll be here when you wake up, and you can’t meet the Captain if you can’t stay awake.” 

“I’m not tired.” Zuko protested, albeit very weakly. 

Surin raised his eyebrows. “Sure.”

Zuko yawned, and reluctantly, agreed to have a nap. “You’ll be here when I wake up?”

Surin grabbed Zuko’s pinky with his own. “Promise.” 

Surin lied. 


	4. Nearly There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko loved fire...so why couldn't he stand the sight of it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we venture closer to the main story.  
> Soon, soon.  
> >:)  
> Warning: Excessive glaring.  
> **Sorry if Zuko seems out of character, but I'm trying to make him as naive as possible, without getting rid of any of his other traits. Besides, I can always give the excuse that's he high on pain or something right now. :)

Everyone had their own way of escaping reality. Whether it be through a hobby, or a habit. Everyone had something they did to make their existence a little more bearable. 

For Azula, Zuko would guess it was firebending. Sure, he loved firebending too, but it was her every movement. Her entire being. Sometimes, Zuko wondered if she was a dragon in disguise, like the fearless protagonists from some of his favorite plays. 

For his Uncle, he would have to say it was tea. Drinking or making, Zuko couldn’t tell. 

Zuko didn’t understand the hype behind the hot leaf juice, but Uncle Iroh always tried to get him to drink some. Whether it be jasmine, or chai. Zuko liked neither, however. 

Well, maybe he could down some jasmine without barfing, but that was a _big_ maybe. 

As for Zuko? Zuko loved his swords. He loved the adrenaline rush he got every time he swung through the air, loved the exhilaration. 

As he sat on the cot, watching droplets roll down a wall, he wondered if he’d ever be able to escape again. 

The medic from earlier wasn’t here. All alone, he tried summoning a flame. He brought his hand close to his face, and sucked in a deep breath. A tiny, barely lit flicker came out of his finger tips. He felt the heat on his face. 

_(His face was melting. Father held him down, as his skin dwindled like wax. He laughed as Zuko screamed. He laughed._

_“Weak, like your mother,” Father sneered, as he cried, the tears evaporating off his face. “I should’ve rid myself of you earlier.”_

_Zuko’s lungs could no longer support his endless screams._

_“Pathetic. Unworthy.” Heartless laughter echoed around the room. “A failure not only to me, but the entire nation. The worthless Prince.”_

_He laughed as Zuko burned_ .- _)_

The little flame trembled, and so did Zuko. Tears sprung to his eyes. The dim flame died out, as did Zuko’s spirit. 

How could he be afraid of Fire? How could he be scared of his own element? He could almost hear his sister now, calling him pathetic. He could feel his grandfather’s disappointment. He could see his father’s sneer. 

His skin would forever bear the mark of his failure, no matter what Surin or any medic did. He would forever be seen as a failure, and everyone would know it. 

Ugly. 

That’s what his scar would be. That’s what it already was. He wasn’t a vain person, not by any means, but he didn’t want a scar. He didn’t want children to run away from him; he didn’t want to be branded. 

He used to hear nobles talk about him, comparing his looks to that of his father. ‘A spitting image,’ they’d say. Maybe once he could’ve been. Now, it would be hard to miss the giant, mottled burn that covered half his face. 

The worst part? Mai probably wouldn’t like his scar. Not that he cared what Mai thought, of course. Girls were weird. And gross. 

Idly, he wondered what his scar might even look like. Would it be shaped like a handprint? Would it just be a shapeless blob? He hoped it would look cool. He didn’t think it would, though. 

He didn’t even want to _think_ about his hair. His top knot was gone, that much he knew. The familiar weight of it was no longer pressing against his neck. 

Surin was right when he mentioned his face being numb. Zuko couldn’t feel a thing. A sharp stinging sensation every once in a while, and if he was extremely unlucky, an itching feeling that felt so strong it burned. 

Zuko wondered where the soldier was. He said he’d be back; he said he’d be here when Zuko woke up. He wasn’t. 

Zuko was sick, and tired of people lying to him, Azula being the worst culprit. If Zuko really tried, he could remember a softer Azula, a small girl desperate for her big brother’s attention. He could even remember a softer Father, one from before Azula started spewing flames. Back when they were a real family, really. When Lu Ten still laughed with them, when Mother dragged them to see the Ember Island Players’ butchered version of his favorite play, ‘Love Amongst The Dragons.’ She always claimed it was to broaden their horizon, but Zuko couldn’t get past the female dragon being green instead of red. _Everyone_ knew dragons weren’t green. 

The room rocked slightly underneath Zuko. Normally, Zuko wouldn’t have noticed, but he was bored, and nothing else that slightly interested him was happening. 

Cautiously, Zuko wandered to the doorframe, and popped his head into the hallway. His face was covered in bandages, so he had to turn his head to get a better look around. Nobody was there. 

Curiously, he exited the room fully, and walked down the hallway. His head throbbed with every step, but he pointedly ignored every stab of pain. 

He followed the pathway until he reached another room. Gathered in the middle, were around ten to fifteen soldiers, all wearing different uniforms. Some had stripes, some didn’t. 

“We have an issue,” A woman at the front of the room called, her fists balled at her sides. All the side conversations ceased immediately. Zuko ducked behind a crate, so he wouldn’t be seen. “As many of you know, we are on course to the Earth Kingdom. The colonies, specifically. We have been called to deal with rogue Earthbenders.” 

A murmur of approval began in the crowd. The woman put her palm up, silencing the crowd. “There is a storm on the horizon, one I doubt we will be able to weather. I debated whether or not to tell you,” She paused, looking over the group. Many soldiers let out a gasp, the noises differing in volume. Insults were thrown, and protests heard. 

One particular insult about someone’s mother made Zuko blush. 

From behind his box, he could barely see the woman. He wiggled his way out from behind the crate to get a better view. “As I knew this could be received...poorly.” 

Many crew members rolled their eyes, or at least Zuko thought they might’ve. 

The woman’s eyes locked onto his, and narrowed. “I’m trusting you to go pack up your supplies, and any personal belongings you might have. Burn the rest. We’re going to prepare for the worst.” 

“The worst being what exactly, Captain?” 

“The ship sinks, and you all die a watery death.” The woman—Captain, was blunt. Zuko slightly admired that, when he wasn’t quaking in his soaked shoes. All the people in his life were rather two-faced, if he really thought about it. Even his mother. “Our supplies end up in enemy hands, as do our bodies. Your families mourn you, only having a scroll to bury in your stead.” 

His mother who he might never get to see again. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry, but it was hard. His life changed so quickly, and he didn’t think it would ever go back to how it was. 

“The best case scenario being we all survive, and make it to the mainland, where we can stock up on supplies again. We’re going to prepare for the worst.” 

The Captain just said they were all going to die. He was _actually_ going to die. He let Surin put the bandages on his face for nothing apparently. 

Which sucked, because that had really hurt. He also didn’t really want to drown, either. When his body floated ashore (which it would, eventually) he knew Azula would laugh at his stupidity. 

“Well?” The Captain snapped at the soldiers. “What are you waiting for? A dismissal? Go.”

As the crewmates filed out, the Captain said, “Hirai Surin and Zuron Kendri? You two need to stick behind. I need to speak with you two.” Zuko heard a very audible gulp from one of the two men she told to stay behind. “You can tell our little friend behind the crates that he’s welcome to join us.” 

“What?” Kendri repeated dumbly. Surin elbowed him in the ribs, hard. He squealed. Surin nodded his head in Zuko’s general direction. 

Zuko stepped out from behind the crates, and bit his lip hard enough he tasted iron. 

“Oh. Hi Zuko.” Kendri replied, as he rubbed his side, glaring at Surin. 

“You said you would be there when I woke up,” Zuko seethed, pointing his finger at Surin. “You lied. I woke up and you weren’t there. You promised.” 

“I’m sorry, Zuko.” The medic appeased. “I was pulled away by Captain Yera. I’m very sorry.”

Zuko wiped away at his eye, getting rid of any stray tears there might’ve been. He was strong, and he wouldn’t cry. 

Azula always said crying was for babies. 

Zuko wasn’t a baby. 

“S’okay,” He sniffled. “I don’t care that much anyway.” 

“It’s okay to care though,” The soldier argued, his tone soft. “I broke a promise, and you’re allowed to be upset.” 

“What he said,” Kendri added, unhelpfully. Surin sent another glare his way. “Let the tears fall, kid. Let em pour. Agni knows you’ve got enough emotional constipation to make a therapist need a therapist.” 

“My name’s not kid,” Zuko stuck his lower lip out in a pout. 

“I know.” 

“Then why do you keep-”

Captain Yera cleared her throat. “Surin, I need you to pack up any supplies that you need. Set fire to the rest. When this ship goes down, I don’t want our supplies getting into anyone’s hands. Those simpletons won’t get anything.” 

“Of course, Captain Yera.” Kendri saluted the woman, who merely glared at him. 

“Get going,” She snapped. Kendri scrambled out of the room, the same direction as Surin. Zuko could hear a faint, ‘ _wait for me, Surin! WAIT! I swear to Agni you will regret it if you don’t wait for me,’_ from the young man. His mother wouldn’t approve of Kendri using Agni’s name in such a way. She always said swearing was bad. She was usually right. 

“You,” She said, pointing at Zuko. Zuko gulped. “Are going to go with both of them. I’d hurry and catch up if I were you.” 

Zuko’s right eye widened. “Um, okay..”

The Captain opened her mouth to say more, but Zuko ran in the opposite direction, as fast as he could. He headed towards the room from earlier, one he had gathered was the medicinal room. 

* * *

“Surin!” He yelled out, as he looked for the young soldier. “Suurin!” 

“Over here, Zuko.” Surin called back. Zuko followed the voice as best he could. He didn’t particularly trust his hearing, however. “I’m just packing up the stuff.” 

Surin’s head popped out from behind a medium sized pile of medical supplies. 

“What are you going to do with the rest of it?” Zuko pointed to the pile. 

“I’m going to burn it,” Surin answered. 

“How?” Zuko’s jaw dropped. He thought Kendri said they were a battalion of non-benders. “Aren’t you a non-bender?” 

“Yes,” Surin paused, reaching into a pocket. “That’s why I’m going to use matches, and then we’re going to put it out, because I really don’t think Captain Yera would appreciate us burning down her only ship.” 

“Matches?” Zuko echoed the only part of Surin’s speech that he remembered. 

“Yeah,” Surin responded. “How else would we non-benders start fires? Well, I guess we could always use flint and steel, but that would be ridiculous, really. We’re on a ship.” 

“I didn’t..” Zuko trailed off. 

“Didn’t what? Think we non-benders were able to produce our own fire without firebenders? No worries. I’m sure that’s a popular opinion.” 

“But why would you?”

“Why would we what?” 

“Start your own fires,” Zuko clarified. “You don’t need to.” 

“True,” Surin agreed, with a shake of his head. “But why would we want to rely on firebending when none of us can do it? I get that you’re a kid of noble birth, Zuko, but think of it this way: why give someone more power over yourself?” 

“Huh,” Zuko frowned. His father had always mentioned the dishonour of being a non-bender, being so weak as to rely on their society to keep them afloat. He called them leeches, latching on to the strong. Zuko never really thought about what being a non-bender meant, as he knew it to be a bad thing. Otherwise, his father wouldn’t call him little better than one. 

His mother, he knew, was a non-bender. She wasn’t weak, so Father was wrong. Surin didn’t seem very weak either, but Zuko wasn’t so sure about that. Surin seemed like the type to cry at the end of romance plays. 

Zuko would know. 

( _Sometimes, he cried at the end of plays. Not that he would let_ anyone _know. Azula already had enough reasons to make fun of him as it was._ ) 

His mother never needed to start her own fires, she had both Zuko and Azula, and any other palace firebender. It was strange, really. Thinking about how non-benders worked. They were human too, and they were just as capable as firebenders, apparently. 

Zuko could agree on not wanting to give more power to someone else. He hated it when he embarrassed himself in front of Azula, because she always used it against him. 

_(He sat on the ground, groaning. He tried to do a harder form, but couldn’t keep up with it. He fell over, onto his back._

_“Ouch,” Zuko said as he rubbed his lower back. “That really hurt.”_

_“It didn’t hurt as much as seeing a member of the royal family struggle so much,” Azula peeked out from behind a tree, a wicked smile plastered all over her face. Zuko’s heart dropped. “We’re supposed to be the example. At least, the example of how to do things right.”_

_“Go away, Azula.” He growled._

_“I don’t think so, Zuzu. You really should’ve seen yourself. It was hilarious, truly. I liked the part where you lost your balance and stumbled on your own two feet. Quite befitting of you, really.”_

_“Stop it.” He warned, all bark and no bite._

_“Or what? You’ll firebend at me? With those forms? I could do those in my sleep, Zuzu. Just face it; you’ll never be as good as me. You’ll always be a failure.”)_

He never had a moment to breathe when she was around. 

Surin grabbed a match from the packet, and rubbed it against the rough patch. The small flame that it produced triggered something in Zuko. The left side of his face began to hurt, a sort of phantom pain over top the actual, lingering pain. 

On instinct, Zuko put the fire out. Surin looked down at the match, pure confusion on his face. “That’s weird. There isn’t a breeze or anything down here, so why….” 

Zuko’s breathing became louder, and Surin turned to look at him. There was something in his eyes, a heavy look. 

Pity. 

“Zuko?” Surin poked his shoulder. “You look sick, why don’t you wait outside while I do this? Okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Zuko grumbled. “I’m not scared of a little flame.” 

“I never said you were,” Surin amended. “But you look sick, and maybe you shouldn’t inhale any of the fumes.” 

It sounded like Surin was reaching, but Zuko didn’t care. He did what was asked of him, and he left. 

He took a deep breath, and steadied himself. 

_I’m fine,_ he thought. _I’m not scared of fire. A firebender scared of his own element? Pathetic. Weak, and I’m not weak. I’m not._

“Zuko?” Kendri ran down the hall, screaming at the top of his lungs. Zuko clutched his head. 

“Ow,” He muttered under his breath. Honestly? He really didn’t like Kendri. At all. 

“Where’s Surin?” Kendri asked, out of breath, once he reached the doorway. 

“Inside. He’s burning the supplies and then he’s going to put them out. I’d guess with water? I don’t know.” 

“Okay,” Kendri pushed Zuko aside and sprung into the room. 

"Hey!" Zuko yelled, anger seeping through his words. "What was that for?" 

“Surin!” Kendri exclaimed. "Surin!" 

“What?” Surin muttered, holding a piece of burning gauze. “Don’t you see that I’m a little busy?” 

“The Captain was wrong,” Kendri said, the urgency clear. “The storm isn’t on the horizon.”

Zuko let out a sigh of relief. Everything was fine, then. Except for maybe the medicine. 

“What?” Surin glared. “You mean I burnt all my supplies for nothing? Honestly-”

“No,” Kendri interrupted. “You don't understand. You didn't burn them for nothing. The storm isn’t on the horizon, Surin. It’s already here.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so logically, I know that holding a piece of anything that's on fire is really dumb, (I've done it before, did not end well) but I hc that even Fire Nation non-benders can withstand a little bit of heat. I mean, they've got to have a firebender somewhere in that family tree of theirs, so it stands to reason that some of the benefits of being a bender would be transferred.


	5. Wrecked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wraps up the first few chapters with the abundance of expendable ocs. From here on out, it'll mostly be canon characters and canon events.  
> Ignore any logical consistencies. These dudes are, like (?) super worried I guess. Their logic is not super sound.

“What?” Surin’s face lost all colour, making his dark hair even starker against his forehead. Sickly, was the best word to describe how Surin looked. “Come again?” 

“The storm is already here.” 

“I’m not in the mood for pranks, Kendri. Neither is Zuko.” Zuko nodded, puffing his chest out. 

“I’m not joking. The Captain says to ready any emergency supplies you might have.” 

“What does it look like I’m doing? Throwing a party?” 

“Whatever, Surin. It doesn’t matter. We need to find some barrels.” Kendri said, rubbing his forehead. “It’s the only chance of survival any of us have.” 

“What about swimming?” Zuko piped up, from behind the two soldiers. “Can’t everyone here swim?” 

“Swimming doesn’t matter all too much when you freeze to death, or when you’re so tired you can’t move your limbs.” Kendri muttered. “I, for one, like breathing.”

Father always said water was the savages’ element. While people still needed water to survive, it just as easily could kill you. Always changing, never conforming; water was a confusing element, no doubt. People needed leadership and rules or they wouldn’t thrive. That’s why the Fire Nation needed to spread their greatness to the other nations of the world. It was for the other nations’ own good, their own necessity. The Earth Kingdom itself was in shambles, and the Water Tribes practiced backwards traditions. The Air Nomads, with their self-governing army, were the most dangerous, as their way of life conflicted with everything. 

“Is there enough barrels, or rafts, or whatever is on this ship for all of us?” 

Kendri paused, a frown maring his nice features. “I...I don’t think so. It’s a limited supply.” 

“Limited? How so, Kendri?” 

“Around eight barrels, give or take.” Kendri said, eyebrows creasing. “That’s...that’s not enough for the whole crew.” 

“Then we need to go. Now.” Surin threw the rest of the stuff onto the ground, and grabbed both Kendri and Zuko’s wrists with his hands. “We can’t waste any time.” 

He dragged them outside the room, and started sprinting down the hallway. Zuko struggled to keep up, his head pounding with every elongated step. 

“Why are we running?” Zuko complained, his breaths coming out faster and shorter than before. He stopped moving, causing the other two to pause as well.

“We need to get to the supplies before anyone else.” Surin said, not bothering to look back at Zuko. “The Captain will try and keep everyone calm, but that won’t work once they find out how close the storm is. If we’re going to have any chance of survival, like Kendri said, we need to get there first.” 

“That….you’re going against your Captain’s orders!” Zuko cried, scandalized that a soldier would ever contemplate such a thing. “She told us to remain calm.” 

“I am calm,” Surin hissed, his breathing heavy himself. Kendri chose to remain quiet, for once. “And I did not spend hours cleaning your wound just for you to drown at sea. We are going to get off this ship.” 

“What about the other crewmates?” Zuko gasped. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are you going to leave them to die?” 

“He doesn’t want to,” Kendri sighed, from beside Zuko. The other soldier leaned against a wall, his eyes heavy with an emotion Zuko couldn’t quite place. “But they wouldn’t save him, were he to drown. He may be a medic, but that’s why he needs to survive. If any of us were to wash up, and he wasn’t there, chances are we’d die off pretty quickly. Zuko, you have to think smartly about this.” 

“I am!” Zuko ripped his hand out of Surin’s grip. These two were speaking of treason, leaving their fellow men to die. It wasn't only traitorous, it was cowardly. “You can’t do this! I won’t let you. I challenge you to an Agni Kai!” 

“We’re non-benders, Zuko.” Kendri face-palmed. “And half your face is gone. Is an Agni Kai a good idea anyway?” 

“Hey!” 

Surin rubbed Zuko’s arm in a comforting way, as if that could get rid of all his troubles, and morals. “You don’t understand. This isn’t a combatant group. We’re supposed to be transporting supplies, and instead, we were assigned as bait. They want us to draw the Earthbenders out, and they don’t expect us to live.” 

“So? How does that relate to leaving your fellow soldiers to die? There’s no honor in that. None whatsoever, and I want nothing to do with it.” Zuko protested, close to losing his composure. 

“Sometimes,” Surin said, looking Zuko directly in the eye, as if to challenge his authority. Zuko was a Prince, these people should be groveling before him, and treating his word as law. Instead, they challenged him, and ignored him, and spoke of dishonourable things. “Honor isn’t the most important thing. Zuko, we aren’t going to let you die, and it’s starting to look like this may be the only way to keep that from happening.”

“How?” Zuko stomped his foot down, the resulting bang resonating through the hallway. “It doesn’t make sense.” 

“Fine.” Kendri snapped. “Let me put this down for you. The people on this ship? They don’t want to be here. The storm? Potential cause of death, as this ship is of very, very poor quality. Is it selfish to leave them here to die? Yes. Would they do the same? Yes. Only the Captain would be selfless, and even then, it’s not guaranteed. Most of these men, they don’t care whether you live, or you die, Zuko. We do. If you want to stick around while the storm hits, and drown, be my guest.” 

“I’m sor-”

“Just, don’t bother, okay? ” Surin cut him off, not wanting to hear any possible explanation. “Let’s get going. I don’t know how much time we’ve already wasted.” 

Kendri nodded, and Zuko’s wrist was once again grabbed by Surin, who sprinted down the hallways, Zuko barely keeping up with him. Zuko couldn’t see the obstacles in front of him all too well, and would occasionally bump into something, whether it be a random chair or a broken lamp, just strewn around. 

Surin stopped just short of a huge door, and let go of Zuko’s hand, momentarily freeing him. Zuko rounded up on the two men, but Surin had already kicked the door down, opting to enter the room. Kendri followed. Left with no other choice, Zuko went after them. 

“This is extremely dishonorable-hey!” Kendri placed his hand over Zuko’s mouth. Enraged, Zuko licked Kendri’s palm. Kendri didn’t even flinch. 

“There’s only one left,” Surin whispered, running his fingers along a single wooden barrel, horror finally dawning on him. He shared a quick, meaningful look with Kendri, one Zuko barely caught out of the corner of his eye. “We were too late, the rest of the crew must’ve made off with it.” 

“Damn it.” Kendri muttered. “Wonder who got here first? Heh, maybe Adima could’ve Surin. If she stopped kissing her kitchenware.” 

“This shouldn’t even matter,” Zuko wrested free from Kendri. “Your Captain will keep you all safe. What was the plan anyway? What if the storm hadn’t been here so soon? Would you have jumped ship then, too?” 

“Yes.” Both Kendri and Surin answered without a bat of an eyelash. 

“The Captain can only do so much. Of course, there is the possibility that this ship will weather the storm,” Kendri added, his shaking voice giving away his doubt. “But it doesn’t look like anyone has any faith in that happening. Ergo, cut all our losses now.” 

“In the case that the ship does survive, and we abandoned it,” Surin piped up. “We lie. Say we fell overboard. It’s as simple as that.” 

Zuko wanted to rip his ears off, if only to stop him from hearing all these treasonous words. “That’s immoral.” 

“It’s survival.” Kendri answered. “Which kinda takes priority, buddy.” 

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Zuko said. “Why are we jumping ship? Wouldn’t it be safer to weather the storm on the boat?” 

“Yes, and no. If we stay, there’s a likelihood we’d go under. Additionally, this ship is...not made well.” Surin explained. “If we leave, using this barrel, we’d float long enough to get to a near strip of land, and nothing would weigh us down.” 

“Captain Yera-”

“The Captain is in just as much of a predicament as us, Zuko. If the ship sinks, she dies, same as any of us. She’s an honorable person, so she’d stick around. Us? Zuko, you have to understand, your survival must come first.” 

“It can’t.” Zuko whimpered, memories of that night coming to the surface. “My honor is the only thing I have left.” 

“You still have your life, Kid.” Kendri patted his shoulder, awkwardly. “And you’re what? Ten?”

“Eleven.” 

“My point is, you’ve got like at least ten years left. Let the grown-ups handle this, kay?” 

“You’re doing a terrible job of handling this! We’re going to die dishonorably!” 

“Ah, ah, ah. What did I say?”

“I’m not repeating what you said. That’s beneath me.” Zuko sneered, only half his face complying with his wishes to look somewhat menacing. “I won’t stand for your mocking either. I am a Prince.” 

“Whatever you say, your Highness,” Kendri snorted, despite the grim atmosphere. “Just trust us, alright?” 

In this part of the play, the hero would be asked to trust the sketchy, shady character who would either prove his worth, or betray him. Zuko didn’t know what Kendri’s plans were, nor how the plot would play out. The best he could do was hope, and blindly put his faith in two borderline traitorous Fire Nation soldiers. If only he was smart like Azula; she’d know what to do. She always did have the right mind for battle strategies. 

However, it doesn’t matter much, anyway. Not really, as the storm could hit any second now. The waves were already crashing against the hull, but that could’ve just been Zuko’s imagination. The wooden barrel plan, as much as it pained Zuko to admit it, was their best bet. In school, he learned how to swim and float, but Kendri was right; he wouldn’t be able to swim forever. While wood was rarely ever used in the Fire Nation for everyday objects, ( _some firebenders had...issues with flammable products)_ it was very buoyant, which is a word Zuko learned last week from his tutors. 

Zuko decided to do something Azula never would; trust the people around him. If Surin and Kendri wanted him dead, or executed, or anything like that, it would’ve already happened. 

“O-okay.” He conceded, taking a leap of faith. 

“Nice,” Kendri smiled, a true genuine expression of happiness, and not a smirk. “Let’s get going, then. We’ve got to get to the main deck. Time for some swimming lessons~” 

* * *

Heavy droplets fell onto Zuko’s head, wetting the bandages, causing them to stick to his face. He sneered, as he picked at the damp strips. “This is humiliating.” 

“Then it’s perfect,” Kendri snorted as he lifted the barrel onto the deck. Surin sighed beside him. 

Zuko humphed, clearly unhappy with the fellow Fire Nation native. He frowned as he stepped onto the deck, alongside his two companions. The clouds were coloured darkly, and the winds blew in all directions, creating barriers of sound. Back on the mainland—in the Caldera, he’d heard of the wicked seas, of storms so malicious and evil that even the toughest, grittiest of men wet themselves. The legends, and myths of the sea’s viciousness were not unfounded. The Water Tribe, the savages they were, worshipped the spirits responsible for the seas’ volatile behaviour.

“Hurry, let’s get to the side before Zuko rips your head off.” 

“Stop right there, Surin.” All three of them whipped their attention towards the starboard side of the ship. Standing there, almost nonchalantly, was another soldier. Slightly taller than Kendri, he practically towered over Zuko. 

Zuko shrunk into himself, leaning back into Surin. He glued himself to the other man’s side. The hostility coming off the third soldier was overwhelming. His demeanour was dark, and guarded. A monster to the untrained eye, a nightmare for smaller children. Zuko was fine, though. Mystery soldiers didn’t scare him….this one was just really buff and that threw him off. 

The heavy rain blurring Zuko’s already impaired eyesight did not help his heartbeat slow down. 

“Don’t you know it’s dangerous to play outside right now? You could fall off the ship, and Agni forbid, drown.” 

“What do you want, Hyemi?” Kendri hissed, instinctively stepping in front of both Zuko and Surin. “Where are you here?” 

“What do I want? It’s nice of you to consider my feelings, Zuron. I want that barrel, and you’re going to give it to me.” 

“Why would I do that, Hyemi? You’re all bark and no bite.” Surin clutched the sides of the barrel tighter, his knuckles turning white. 

“Am I? If I remember correctly, you’re a non-bender,” The man grinned, and Zuko couldn’t ignore the glaring similarities between this random soldier and Zhao, a bloodthirsty, power hungry Lieutenant. “And I’m not.” 

Zuko gasped. “Not a non-bender…” 

The man stuck his palm out, and sure enough an orange flame sprung to life. It wasn’t the strongest flame ever, as there was a constant onslaught of water which caused more steam then fire, but the threat was obvious. 

“Hyemi, we don’t want a quarrel,” Surin said, cautiously, as if he also forgot about the man’s firebending. “We are just using this barrel to...uh…” 

“To escape? Leave us all to die? You were supposed to be our healer, Surin. Instead? Instead you’re nothing but a coward.” 

“That may be true,” Surin backed away, leaving Zuko exposed. “If I’m a coward, what does that make you? Nothing better than a bully?” 

“It doesn’t matter what you think, Surin. You aren’t abandoning us to this fate if you don’t have to suffer it yourself.” 

“That’s crap, and you know it, Hyemi. You’d condemn us to die while you lived? Anyways, why didn’t you stop anyone else? This was the last barrel. Others had to have left beforehand.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” The man—Hyemi, muttered. The steam curled around his fist, giving the illusion of size. “You won’t leave us here, traitor.” 

“You’re right…” Surin agreed, voice barely above a whisper as he turned to Kendri. “Take Zuko and go.” 

“What?” Kendri’s eyes didn’t leave Hyemi once. Hyemi growled, a low sound ripped out of his throat. Zuko shuddered, and it wasn’t from the cold. “Surin what do you mean?” 

“Get him off the ship.” 

“What about us?” 

“You said it yourself, he’s got at least ten years left. Besides, he has the best chance at survival in the Earth Kingdom. Just do it.” 

“You sure? Once he’s gone, he’s not coming back. He could die, you know. They aren’t the most welcoming people ever.” 

“Yes, I’m aware.” Surin covered Zuko with his own body. “Zuko?”

Zuko tore his eyes off the rogue firebender for a second, and made eye contact with the medic. “Yes?” 

“Go with Kendri, and do what he says, okay? Just trust us.” That’s all Zuko wanted to do, but—and he’d never, ever admit this—he was scared. Everything was happening so fast, and he couldn’t concentrate on the events playing out in front of him. 

“But...but what about him?” He pointed at the other soldier. The man hadn’t fired any shots at them, but that was likely because he didn’t want to burn the barrel. This ship was made of metal, and it was sturdy, but it was heavy. This piece of wood is the only thing that would float by itself. 

“I’ll deal with him. He won’t do anything permanent. I’ll be fine. It’s just going to be a little scuffle, nothing big.” Surin lied with such natural ease, it reminded him of his younger sister, and her endless falsehoods. Bright and young eyes filled with such malice. Jealousy was far beneath him, but something like envy always filled his heart whenever he watched her practice her forms perfectly without any effort. Dishonesty always astounded him, mainly because he couldn’t lie to save his life. 

“Surin, I’m not going to wait patiently. Just hand over the wood.” 

“Come on, Zuko let’s go. Surin will be fine.” Kendri grabbed the barrel completely from Surin, and gripped Zuko’s shoulders. The rain assaulted his skull, droplets running down his forehead. 

“O-okay.” Zuko allowed Kendri to lead him towards the port side. 

“Get into the barrel.” Kendri ordered. Zuko complied, stepping tentatively into the wooden container. 

“What’s going to happen now? I demand to know.” Zuko raised his voice, just to be heard over the loud, crashing waves. 

“Zuko,” Kendri looked him directly in the eye. Zuko’s bandages were slowly starting to peel off his face, exposing his wound. It smelled disgusting. “When you wish ashore, promise me you won’t introduce yourself as a Fire Nation citizen.” 

“Why not?” Zuko asked. Kendri couldn’t expect him to cover up his heritage as if it were shameful. “I am proud of who I am.” 

“I figured,” Kendri sighed, as he looked towards both Surin and Hyemi who were fist-fighting it out. “You have to promise me, Zuko. Once you reach land, wherever you end up, you can’t introduce yourself as Zuko from the Fire Nation. I know you fancy yourself a Prince-”

“I am a Prince.” 

“-but you can’t trust anyone. No one is inherently good to everyone. If given the chance, they will hurt you. Water Tribe, Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation alike. Your father is proof enough.” 

“My father would never hurt me.”

“Kid, look in the mirror sometime. Your face has been burned off. You will never look like you did before. You’re branded. No sane father does that.”

“My father-”

“Zuko,” Kendri sighed, running his hands along his face. His black hair stuck to the sides of his head, sticking up in unflattering ways. “Just promise me, okay? I’m not even going to sugarcoat this. You may die out there. There’s probably some fish in the bottom of the barrel, I don’t know how fresh, or safe to eat, but you can cook it if you become desperate. That’s a big maybe, though. You might die.” 

“Then why am I getting into this? Are you trying to hurt me?” Zuko accused. 

“No. According to Surin, this is your best bet. Do you promise me though, that you’ll be safe as you can be?” 

“What about you?” Zuko asked, genuinely curious. If this wasn’t an elaborate plot to kill him, why wasn’t Kendri using the barrel too? Didn’t he want to live as well, if this was the only option as he claimed?

“I’ll be fine, same as Surin. Besides, you can’t stay here anyway. You wouldn’t survive a day on the frontlines with your injury. For the matter, neither will Surin or I. This whole drowning thing only sped the process up. An excuse Surin can use to justify this.” 

Kendri grimaced as lightning shot through the sky. Zuko shuddered and curled into himself. The barrel was wet and uncomfortable. He just wanted to be warm, for his mother to tuck him into his bed, and give him good night kisses. He wanted to taste his uncle’s stupid tea. He wanted his cousin, Lu Ten to be alive and laughing. He craved his father’s love. He even missed Azula. He just wanted his family. 

“Okay, I’m going to throw you overboard. Hold on, okay?” Zuko clutched tightly onto the sides. Kendri lifted him up like he weighed nothing. 

Surprisingly, the barrel did not break upon contact with the water. Soon, it was filled with water. To avoid drowning, Zuko exited the barrel, not without some struggle, but easily enough. He clutched onto the top of the floating material, and watched idly as the sea dragged him away from the metal ship.

 _On to new beginnings_ , he thought as he drifted further and further, and consciousness became harder to hold onto. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally. I don't mind OCs, but I don't want to have to use them. I only used them to further my own evil plans, mwahaha.


	6. I'm Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Earth Kingdom is nothing like Zuko would've expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of fluff, and a little sprinkle of angst.

The sand stuck to Zuko’s face in bits, clumping together with the dirty bandages. He moaned as he wiped the dirt off. Some of it got in his mouth, and the taste wasn’t pleasant. Around him, there was wood, floating up the beach. Zuko’s eyes widened the same moment he started coughing up salt water, trying to cleanse his lungs from it. The water spluttered out of his mouth in painful intervals, seemingly fighting to stay inside of him, where it didn’t belong. Zuko fell onto his side, opting to use his right arm to hold himself upwards. 

He sat upright, sand slipping into his robes, but he ignored the itching. Zuko, using his one good eye, looked around the beach, for any sign of civilizations. A building, a stand, or even a rogue hut would work. Anything. 

Grudgingly, Zuko tried to stand, his legs wobbling under him. Steadying himself, Zuko took a step, collapsing from exhaustion. He wanted to rip his hair out, whatever remained of it. Tears sprung to his eyes, and threatened to spill. He tilted his head upwards to keep them from falling. He couldn’t dehydrate himself, he didn’t know when he’d get clean water next. He might never. 

He needed to get home, to see his mother again. He wanted to curl up into his bed, not sleep outside, like any commoner. He was a Prince, yet he hadn’t been acting like one. He’d allowed soldiers to talk down to him like he was nothing but a stupid child, nothing but a burden. 

Maybe that’s all he was. A burden. He made everyone’s lives more difficult. Miserable. He left Kendri and Surin to die. He’s selfish, and dishonourable, and Father will never take him back now. He wouldn’t even recognize Zuko. Not anymore. 

After three more attempts, Zuko allowed himself to cry, to let it out. His legs collapsed under his own weight. He sniveled and wailed like a baby, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He brought nothing but shame to his family by acting like this, but some part of him didn’t care. 

He was tired, and hungry, and his head wouldn’t stop hurting. The bandages were wet, and gross, and Zuko knew he needed to remove them, but he didn’t want to feel what was under there. He didn’t want that burn to become permanent, even if it already was. Zuko crawled forwards, away from the tide. He sobbed some more, and closed his eyes, willing blissful unconsciousness to fall over him. In the morning, he decided, he was going to go find some food.

He was going to get home. Mother would be rejoiced to see him. Grandfather would throw a festival in his honour. Azula would play with him, and apologize for setting him on fire all those times. Father would welcome him home with open arms. 

He just needed to get there.

* * *

“Is he still alive?” A young girl asked, from somewhere to the left of Zuko. A sharp jab into his side made him open his eyes. “He looks dead. Like a ghost, Mama.” 

He sprung upwards, shielding his face from the newcomers. The sun wasn’t out, the moon lighting up the sky instead. The cool air bit against his skin, leaving him shivering.

“Song, please stop bothering the poor boy.” An older woman chided the younger girl, who couldn’t have been older than Zuko himself. “He looks like he’s been through a lot.” 

“Sorry, Mama.” The girl, Song, apologized, still eying him with something close to wonder. Interest, maybe. “I didn’t mean to be rude.” 

“Hello,” The woman crouched down in front of him. Her features were kind, and maternal, not unlike his own mother’s. He backed away from the woman, creating a safe distance between her and himself. “Oh, you don’t need to be afraid of me, dear. I work at a hospital, and I want to help you.” 

“Leave me alone.” He whispered, covering himself with his arms. “I don’t need your help.” Kendri’s words rang through his head, the warning about being careful who to trust. This woman seemed nice enough, but he didn’t, couldn’t know her true intentions. She had trademark Earth Kingdom clothes on. All his instincts screamed for him to run from this woman and her daughter, but he couldn’t move. His eyes widened, and darted around the landscape.

“Please,” The Earth Kingdom woman pleaded. “Come with me. I promise we’ll help you. Please don’t stay out here. You’ll freeze.” 

“I don’t want your help.” He repeated. “Go away.” 

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” She asked. 

“Zu-um….” 

“What? Could you repeat that?” 

Zuko bit his tongue, hard enough to draw blood. He nearly blurted out his real, Fire Nation name. (“ _Don’t trust anyone,” Kendri warned. “No one is inherently good to everyone.”)_

Zuko’s voice came out shaky. “L-Li. My n-name is Li.” 

“Okay, Li.” Her voice lilted at the end, a singsong quality to it. “Why don’t we go to the hospital? We can get you some food. You must be very hungry.” 

“I don’t want any of your food.” He protested, wincing when his stomach growled loudly. 

“I think you do.” She smiled. “Song, why don’t you help Li up?” 

“Okay,” The little girl grabbed Zuko’s arm, and yanked him up. He stumbled as he flew forward. “There you go.” 

“Hey!” Zuko huffed, as he patted the sand off his pants. 

“Sorry, Li.” She shrugged, a small, sad smile on her young face. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

“I’m not hurt,” He yanked his arm away from her weak grasp. “I’m fine.” 

“Li, why don’t you come with Song and I?” Song’s mother wouldn’t give up, persisting until he gave in, which would never happen. “We’re having roast duck, and I always make way too much. It would be a shame if it were to go to waste. You can warm yourself up too.” 

“I already said I was fine.” He frowned. His hands began to heat. Quickly, before Song or her mother could notice, he focused on cooling them down. “I don’t want your pity food.” 

“Li, I’m not pitying you. I genuinely want you to come eat with us, after we give you a check-up, of course.” She explained. “Maybe you can even stay the night. We don’t mind.” 

“You’re lying.” He accused. The woman didn’t even blink. “I know it.” 

“Li,” She raised her eyebrows. “Why would I lie to you? Come on Honey, you’re going to regret it if you don’t. Being hungry isn’t fun.” 

“Please, Li?” Song poked his side, a pout on her face. “Pretty please?” 

Zuko frowned. Song kept poking him. “O-okay. Fine.” 

“Yes!” Song grabbed him, and pulled him into a tight, crushing hug. Zuko used all his willpower to not push her off. Some of his disgust must’ve shown, however, because Song’s mother only laughed at the two kids. “Let’s go.”

* * *

“Li, you need to sit still.” Song’s mother applied a cool, liquid to his days-old injury. He wiggled in his seat, trying to avoid her fingers. Song and her mother brought him back, shivering and coughing, to their home. 

Zuko pulled an old, ratty shawl over himself, trying to ward off any excess cold. The healer also gave him a red blanket, to heat himself up with, should he need to. Really, he didn’t need or want it, but he wanted to avoid suspicion. “I need to disinfect this.” 

Surin had said the same thing. Apparently, to be in the medical field, you needed to annoy Zuko. “I know.” 

“Then why aren’t you letting me, Li?” She challenged, setting the medicine down on a nearby table. “I need to clean your burn. I don’t want you to get an infection.” 

“I’m fine.” He insisted. “It’s not that bad.” 

“Li, this is a third degree burn. It’s skin deep. I need to do this, okay? I can’t do that if you don’t let me.” 

“Fine.” Zuko crossed his arms. 

The woman dipped her fingers in the product, and smeared it all over his face. The cream stung his skin, causing tears to form. 

“Ouch.” He protested. “That hurts.” 

“Li, of course it’s going to hurt,” She sighed. “Those bandages you had on haven’t been changed in a long time. The bacteria alone could’ve killed you. Honey, you need to settle down.” 

“I already said I was fine. Don’t touch me.” He growled, turning away from the woman. He slouched, and used his back to block her. 

“Li,” She scolded. “Sit still. I won’t ask you again.” 

Zuko humphed, and stopped moving, his lip jutted out in a pout. He wasn’t happy, and he was going to make sure Song’s mother knew. 

She slathered it all over his face, coating his skin in the disinfectant. He winced when it stung, but he didn’t squirm. 

“You see this bottle?” The woman motioned to the container in her palms. “This is a special burn medicine. If we want to get optimal results, you need to apply this every day for a month. I think I have enough of it to last.” She placed the medicine down, beside two replicas. She continued applying it. 

“That hurts.” He complained. “Stop. I command you.” 

Song’s mother only rolled her eyes, not deigning to respond. Zuko frowned. All citizens should show proper respect to royalty, Earth Kingdom or not. Though, he mused, he didn’t tell her of his superior status, so she had an excuse. “You command me? Tsk tsk. Li, honey, why don’t you go fetch Song? I’m done with your bandages. For now, at least. I’ll need to change them later.” 

“Okay, ma’am.” He jumped out of his seat, and sprinted towards the door. Song, who was too young to help her mother out at the hospital, was playing a game in a nearby field. She sat in the middle of a dirt mound, her knees tucked towards her chest. “Song! Your mom wants to see you.” 

“Why?” Song frowned. “I did all my chores today. I fed the ostrich horse, and I cleaned my room.” 

“I don’t know.” Zuko shrugged. “I didn’t ask.” 

“I wanna keep playing,” Song said, throwing a patch of dirt at Zuko. “Wanna join me? We can pretend we’re benders.” 

Zuko swallowed uncomfortably, his mind conjuring images of flames, and burns aplenty. “Um, sure. I guess.” 

“Great!” She smiled, as she tugged on his sleeve. “You can be an Earthbender, and I’ll be a Waterbender. I heard they can heal. How cool is that?” 

“I don’t want to be an Earthbender.” Zuko declared. He wouldn’t stoop to their level. Earthbending was brutish and unrefined, as compared to the art of Firebending. “Rocks are dumb.” 

“Okay,” Song said, her features twisting up in confusion. “Then you can be a Waterbender, like me. We can freeze people.” 

Zuko’s eyebrows creased. He didn’t want to be a water savage, either. “Ugh.”

“You can’t be an Airbender because they’re gone.” Song explained. “And you don’t wanna be an Earthbender, so you get to be a Waterbender, like me. Come on, it’ll be fun.” 

Song didn’t mention Firebenders, as if they were something to be ashamed of. Firebending was a blessing, a gift; why didn’t she recognize it as such? It baffled Zuko, more than he would like. As opposed to the other bendings types, Firebending was civilized. At least, that’s what his old instructors at the palace used to say. “Okay.” 

Song moved her arms weirdly, in fluid yet chaotic motions. She elbowed Zuko, as if expecting him to replicate her. Zuko merely sat there, watching her make a fool of herself. He had to admit, though, when she fell over, and laughed it off, he might’ve been a teeny bit jealous. He wanted to roll around in the mud too, but he was royalty. He couldn’t. 

“What are you doing, silly?” When Song called him a name, it didn’t have the same malicious intent behind it that Azula’s nicknames did. More lighthearted and fun, if that made any sense. It didn’t keep him from being annoyed, however. He hated nicknames. 

“I don’t like this game.” Zuko growled. “It’s stupid, and bad.” 

“You’re boring.” 

“Your mom wants to see you, Song.” Zuko repeated. “Come on.” 

“Alright,” Song said. “But we’re playing later, right?”

“Fine.” Zuko muttered. “Whatever.” 

“Song?” The girl’s mother called out to them from the building. “Li? Please hurry.” 

“Coming!” Song cried back. She grabbed Zuko’s wrist and led him back to the makeshift infimary. 

* * *

“What took you little ones so long? Here I was, thinking Li had gotten lost,” Song’s mother tsked softly, her voice taking a singsong quality. “I was so worried.” 

“Sorry,” Zuko amended. 

“We were playing, Mama. Li and I were benders!” Song grinned. “I was a Waterbender. I could heal people like you.” 

“That’s very sweet, Song.” The kind woman said, a similar smile adorning her face. “What about Li?” 

“He was gonna be an Earthbender, but he didn’t want to. So he was a Waterbender too.” Song offered. “I was the best Waterbender out there.” 

“And I’m so proud of you for that,” Song’s cheeks were pinched, in a loving way, not unlike when Zuko’s own mother would do that for him. “But it’s time to come inside.” 

“Kay.” Song hummed, stepping inside, mud slightly tracking behind her. “Is dinner done?” 

“Almost,” Her mother answered, leading the children inside. “While you wash up, I’ll go get it ready.” 

“Race you,” Song said, turning to Zuko. “Slow poke.” 

“Hey!” Zuko protested. “I’m not slow.” 

Song didn’t hear him, as she had already taken off running. Miffed, Zuko followed the high energy girl, determined to beat her at her own game. He turned the corner, and bumped into an unfamiliar man. 

“Who’re you?” The man grabbed Zuko by his shirt’s collar. “Half-breed scum.” 

“Half-breed?” Zuko repeated. He had never been so offended. “Excuse me? I’ll have you kn-” 

“Hua?” The man called out. “Why is there a Fire brat here?” 

Song’s mother—Hua, popped her head out, a frown deeply etched into her features. She froze when she saw the predicament. Her mouth formed a little ‘o’. “Wei. Let Li go.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question, Hua. What is he doing here?” 

“He’s injured, and in my care.” Hua answered. “That’s reason enough. Li, come here.” 

Zuko didn’t need to be told twice. He shook himself free, which wasn’t that hard, and ran over to Hua. The man’s nostrils flared. 

“Hua, his kind killed your husband, and you're giving it pity? I thought you were loyal.” 

“Li is a child, Wei. Besides, the Fire Nation hasn’t been kind to him either. You, better than anyone else should know how poorly they treat their mixed population.” 

“He’s rolling in his grave, Hua. Traitor woman.” Wei spat. Song finally entered the scene, freezing when she saw Wei. “You bring disgrace to us all.” 

“Uncle Wei.” She greeted, cordial and cold. “It’s nice to see you.” 

“And you, Song. I’ll be on my way, Hua, but don’t think I’m going to forget about this just because you married my half-brother.” 

“Of course not, Wei. Now, leave. I didn’t invite you onto my property, or into my house.” 

Wei, the brute he was, spat on Hua’s face, and made his way out the nearest door. Zuko stood there for a moment longer, and sniffled. He wasn’t a dirty Half-Breed. 

“It’s okay, Li. He didn’t mean any of those words.” Hua reassured him. They both knew she was lying. 

* * *

The meal was duck, just as Hua had promised. After he finished, Zuko sat outside, on the porch, just staring up at the night sky, and the moon. The cold of the air didn’t bother him much. 

The door opened behind him, and Song stepped forward. “Are you mad because of what Uncle Wei said? Because Mama says Uncle Wei is a stupid pri-” 

“No. I don’t care about what that brute thinks.” Zuko rolled his eyes. “I don’t take advice from uneducated simpletons.” 

“Huh?” 

“Nevermind.” 

Song frowned, her young face crumpling. “Are you sad because of your bandages?” 

Zuko’s hand flew up to the thin wrappings on his face. Underneath them, was a horror Song couldn’t begin to understand. Monstrous, ugly and disfigured. When Hua had cleaned up his face, and removed the old bandages, she had gasped. Zuko wasn’t an idiot, he knew disgust when he saw it. He scowled, “No, I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure?” Song asked, concern colouring her tone. “Mama said that the Fire Nation hurt you, like they hurt me.” She pulled her filthy dress upwards, showcasing her leg to Zuko. Just like his face, it was mottled, and ruined. It must’ve been deliberate as well, because the placing was in a strange place. Firebenders didn’t miss so badly. 

“I’m fine. No one hurt me.” He refuted. He didn’t know how he got his mark, but surely, it couldn’t have been his father. No matter what anyone said, Father loved him. 

“Li, it’s okay. Mama said they hurt everyone. They’re evil. It’s not your fault.” 

“How do you know that?” Zuko challenged. “Huh? What if I’m evil too?” 

“You’re not evil,” Song stressed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Clear to everyone but Zuko. “You’re my friend, and you’re nice.” 

“I could be lying,” Zuko pointed out. “I could be tricking you into liking me.” 

“I trust you.” Song shrugged. “I like you. You’re very kind, Li. Even if you like to pretend you aren’t.” 

“I’m not weak,” Zuko seethed. How dare Song suggest such a thing? “I’m strong, and powerful. I’m not soft.” 

“Whatever you say, Li. I’m going inside now. You should come. Bedtime is soon, and Mama doesn’t like it when I stay up too late.” 

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Zuko lied, his voice wavering. His falsehood wouldn’t have fooled Azula, but Song wasn’t as smart as his sister was. It would do. “Promise.” 

“Goodnight, Li.” Song smiled. Zuko watched idly as the young girl entered her home again. He checked around the area. Earlier, Song mentioned an ostrich horse. That must be in the hut, slightly detached from the main house. Additionally, Zuko needed the medicine Hua used on him. She said he needed it for another month. 

He crept inside, making no sound. He tiptoed around creaky floorboards, and avoided stepping down too hard. The medicine was in the furthest left room, if he remembered correctly. Carefully creeping, he found the room. He could barely see anything, but that wouldn’t stop him. He pushed the door open, and ran his hand down all the supplies left out. He’d find the medicine eventually. 

“Here we go,” He whispered as he made out the correct shape of the bottle. He reached slightly to the right of the bottle, and snagged the second one too. 

Silently, as if he were never there at all, he left the small house, and grabbed the ostrich horse. He didn’t have any money, or food, but he’d worry about that later.

He rode down the street, inconspicuous until the end. He didn’t notice the little girl watching him, with a heavy heart. 

* * *

He was one step closer to home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even begin to describe how perfect Song and her mother were for these roles; they lived in a Western Earth Kingdom town, they worked in a hospital, and had been attacked by the Fire Nation. It's really nice how things come together. Also, I had to give Song's mother a random name, because referring to her as Song's mother throughout the whole thing was tedious lol.


	7. No One

The town was smaller than Zuko expected, with only around a hundred people living within its borders. Zuko travelled three days under the hot sun to arrive here, the next major town after Song’s. Located near a port, he liked his chances of getting on a boat back to the Fire Nation. Originally, he walked up to a shipyard, and demanded passage. His back still hurt from the rough shove he got, and his ears still rang from the harsh laugher. 

_(“What does a filthy, little runt like you want with the Fire Nation?” The soldier slapped his arm in front of Zuko, firmly keeping him in place. He sneered. “Are you on some sort of revenge mission? Think you’re a hero?”_

_“No!” Zuko protested, but it fell on deaf ears. These soldiers were nothing like Surin, or Kendri. “I would neve-”_

_“You think this doesn’t happen every day, kid? You ain’t special. But I’m feeling merciful, so I’ll let you go with a warning: come back, and I’ll break every bone in your body.”)_

If he could afford a ticket. Currently, for the first time in his life, he was broke. There was only one way he could earn any money. 

He stared at the animal he intended to sell, some weird, heavy feeling settling in his stomach. He headed towards a singular trader’s stand, one he assumed (and hoped) would take the creature from him for a fair price. 

“I would like to trade,” Zuko said, eyes locking with the man. “Here’s my ostrich-horse, I’m willing to sell her.” 

“Why would I want an ostrich-horse? I have no use for her.” 

“Uh,” Zuko paused, scrambling to find a decent response. He searched, and searched, and came up with nothing. “To eat?” 

“Heh, fair enough. You know what, sure. How much do you want?” 

Zuko stalled, brain going faster than his body could keep up with. “Um…” 

“Hmm, she does seem a little on the older side...I’ll give you twenty.” 

“She’s worth at least fifty,” Zuko complained, shaking the reins for proof. “She’s in good health.” 

“Doesn’t matter. You can take the twenty, or leave.” The merchant paused. “There are plenty of hungry kids such as yourself who would be grateful for ten, let alone twenty.” 

“She’s worth fifty, not twenty,” Zuko argued. Sweat dripped off his brow, and he fought the urge to wipe it away. Agni’s rays were upon his skin, beating down on him. 

“Move along.” The merchant snarled, a large wad of spit landing directly on Zuko’s face. “I have actual customers to attend to.” 

The man shoved Zuko along, not bothering to look even when Zuko stumbled onto the ground. The reins weighed heavily in his palms. He needed to get money. Truly, he didn’t understand how Earth Kingdom citizens lived like this. He didn’t have any of his nice clothes, his robes torn to shreds long ago. Currently, he looked and smelled worse than the lowest of beggars. 

“Next.” The woman lined up behind Zuko shoved him aside, and started to converse with the trader. 

Zuko’s stomach grumbled, and ached, alerting him to the severe lack of food he’s had for the last few days. A problem he needed to deal with soon. 

Before he truly registered his own movements, Zuko opened his mouth, successfully interrupting the deal. “Please…just give me the money....I’ll take the twenty….” 

He’d never been quite as disgusted with himself than he was at that moment. Begging, and crying. His weakness on display to all the people around him. He was disgracing himself, and yet, when he looked around, no one seemed to care. No one met his eyes, everyone far too engrossed in their own lives to pay him any mind. It was strange, to say the least. For all his life, he’d been told he was above everyone, and while he never really believed it, everyone else seemed to. The servants would always cower when he spoke, and always thanked him for the tiniest shred of respect. 

“Figures you’d come around, they always do. Here,” The man slid the pouch towards Zuko’s eager, waiting hands. “Now leave. You’ve caused more drama than you’re worth.” 

Zuko grabbed the velvet bag, his gaze focused on the businessman. He handed over the reins to Song’s ostrich-horse, and left the stand. While trading his primary source of transportation hadn’t been the wisest decision, it was necessary. Zuko’s stomach felt like it could collapse at any moment. He handed over the reins, watching idly as the only companion he’s had for the past few days leaves his life forever. 

Zuko clutched the pouch with his fist, keeping it close to his side. He had pockets, but they were filled with the medicine he needed for his face. He’d applied it while on the road, taking shortstops to slather it on the best he could. He didn’t know what he looked like, barely bandaged and injured, but he found he fit in with the general populace. Everyone he passed in the town had the same dead look in their eyes. Some were covered with burns, ranging in intensity. Zuko had never known fire to be so destructive.

_(“Princes do not beg.”)_

Zuko winced at the memory, the leathery skin tightening on his face. He resisted the urge to touch the wound, and scratch at it. His mother always said picking at scabs wouldn’t let them heal properly. He needed to look his best for when he returned to his country. For his family, who must be searching diligently. 

It was difficult, walking through an Earth Kingdom town, with his head hung low, and his eyes avoiding everyone else’s. He walked without the grace of a Prince, and the misery of a peasant. Maybe, leaving Song and her mother was a bad idea, but it couldn’t be helped. 

Zuko saw what happened to Song’s leg. She was around his age, and had a similar wound. Even if she was Earth Kingdom, it made him feel...weird seeing her like that. She and her mother had been nothing but kind to him, and he stole their ostrich-horse, and then sold it. Maybe, if he were a better person, he’d feel guilty, but he was a Prince on a mission. He needed to get home, no matter how he did it. Surely, they’d understand. 

Or maybe they wouldn’t. After all, he wasn’t Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation. To them, he was Li, a small, scared boy hurt by the Fire Nation. 

It didn’t matter what anyone claimed or said. His Father wanted him back. This burn wasn’t from him, it simply couldn’t be. The logic wasn’t there, and neither was the evidence. His father loved him, why would he burn him? Obviously, Zuko hallucinated the entire ordeal and some spiteful servant just put a torch to his face. That made much more sense. 

Maybe one day, he’d laugh about all of this. 

He smacked his lips, the dry, cracked feeling foreign to him. His throat was dry, but that wasn’t a big deal. He hadn’t had any water for around two days, what did he expect? 

He paused, trying to remember whether or not he’d seen a cantina or bar some way back. He could always test his luck with the local water, but he’d rather not. He walked through the market, eyeing every stand he passed for a waterskin or something similar to it. 

He walked by a store with on display in the front. Wasting no time, Zuko breezed in. He browsed through the isles, until he found a suitable waterskin. A brown one, with nothing exciting or intriguing about it. 

The store owner noticed him, and motioned for him to come over once he picked it up. “That’ll be five yuans.” 

Zuk slid him the money. “Here.” 

The man took the money, whilst Zuko stood there, awkwardly. His eyes caught onto something sharp, with a silver glint. 

“Sir,” Zuko cleared his throat, his gaze never leaving what he assumed to be a weapon. He pointed a shaking finger towards it. “How much are those worth?” 

“You mean these?” The man reached for the weapon, gripping the handles. Dual swords, just like the ones Zuko used to use. 

Zuko’s breath hitched in his throat. He’d never wanted something so badly, nor desperately. He still had fifteen yuan left, perhaps he could bargain for them. (He ignored the voice that asked about the ticket cost.) 

“These are worth seventy yuan.” 

“Seventy?” Zuko echoed. He didn’t have seventy yuan. “Is there any way….you could lower it?” 

“Nope.” The man popped the ‘p’. “These are worth seventy. I’m sorry, but I’m not budging on this.” 

“I see.” He didn’t. 

“Have a good day. Come back some other time.” 

Zuko smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He bid the man goodbye, but his focus never left the swords. 

He sighed, and stepped outside, heading back out towards the docks. Perhaps it was for the best, that he couldn’t buy it. He still needed a ticket for passage to the colonies. 

* * *

“Did you hear the news?” A woman whispered to her friend, quietly, but loud enough for Zuko to overhear. 

“What news?” The friend responded, almost automatically. 

“The youngest Fire brat was killed,” She smirked, as if the news of _his supposed death_ brought her satisfaction. “It only took a few days for the family to confirm it. They were quick to name the Princess the sole heir. Suspicious. They probably killed the brat themselves, the primitive creatures they are.” 

“Hmm, doesn’t matter who killed him. One less ashmaker makes the world a better place.” 

“Ha, true, true.” The first woman paused. “They’re blaming us, however. Claiming Earth Kingdom assassins got to him in his sleep, and crushed him alive. Apparently, there wasn’t much of a body to burn at the funeral, if there was a body at all.” 

“Do you believe it?”

“I hope we did. They deserve it, for what they’ve done to us.” 

“First the Dragon’s brat, now the spare? When will they learn not to mess with us?” 

“When they’re all dead.” 

Wait...his family thought he was dead? They weren’t looking for him? They gave up on him, so easily? Tears sprung to the corner of his eyes. 

They had a funeral and everything. He wasn’t dead, though. Earth Kingdom assassins didn’t kill him; he was fine. _Absolutely fine._

He shook as sobs broke through his body. He couldn’t help it, _no one_ wanted him back. Not his mother, not his sister, not his uncle, or grandfather. Not Father… They moved on so easily, as if he was barely a pebble in their path; no one worth mentioning. Barely an anecdote in a history book. 

He cried, and cried for what seemed like hours. People didn’t care, they just passed him by. What did he expect? No one cared. Not even his own family. 

Father probably did burn his face off, just so _Azula_ could be his perfect little heir. Azula, who was so much smarter and more powerful. A prodigy, one worthy of love. She probably laughed when she heard of his fate. 

Uncle wouldn’t care, he didn’t care about anything after Lu Ten died. He just left them, him, to suffer alone. 

At least Mother could now have a proper child, and not some defective, worthless, dishonourable one. 

Lu Ten might’ve been the only one who loved him, and he was _dead._ It didn’t matter anymore. Father lied...he _lied._

Zuko wiped his snot off his face. He kicked a rogue pebble in his path. 

“Excuse me, small sir?” 

Zuko sneered, and turned his snot stained face towards the assailant. “What?” 

“Would someone as fine as you care for a theater mask? Support local artists,” The woman hastily added. “Here. This one is from a famous play from another country.” 

She handed a poorly done copy of the iconic mask from ‘Love Amongst the Dragons.’

Zuko wanted to say no, but he hesitated. He could say yes, he didn’t need to go home anymore. He wanted to, but to his citizens, he was nothing. Dead. They’d kill him on sight, and never believe him. The Prince they remember was handsome, and not unmarred. Not a deformed, ugly mask. The woman probably tried to sell him this mask to cover the monstrosity that was his face. Perhaps, he should just buy it. 

“Sure. How much?” 

“Ten yuan.” 

He grabbed the poor imitation, and handed over the change. “Thanks.”

He slung it over his shoulder. He had no money left, he couldn’t buy any new clothes, or a ticket. 

It didn’t matter; after sunset, he came back into the town, and snuck into the store owners’ shop, and took the swords. He’d already stolen before, and there was no going back anyway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of arc one. After this, I'm going to incorporate the gaang into it as well. And Azula.  
> **this may seem a bit OOC but up until this point, Zuko has basically only had one goal: get home. When he found out that he was considered dead, he kind of...gave up. Now, he's going to live just to spite his family, who he think abandoned him. It's going to be very fun. :) (For us, not him.)


	8. Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A double update, sorry if that confused anyone. I just figured I should because I'm so...not reliable when it comes to updates. Ha. Think of this as an apology for my tendency to flake.

Azula prided herself on her abilities. Her fire was the strongest kind there was; Father always told her so. She was also going to be very beautiful; not that she was vain, it’s just that people told her she resembled her mother, and her mother was considered very pretty. Naturally, she would be too. Ty Lee even told her so, and Ty Lee never lied to Azula. 

She was the ideal heir, ruthless, determined, strong and intelligent. 

The only thing she didn’t have? The only thing that worked against her? Birth order. She was born second, after that useless buffoon of a brother. Zuzu wasn’t strong, or smart. He cried too easily, and complained when she played with him. It’s not her fault he couldn’t take a little heat. 

She sat in her room, tracing a picture of fire lilies her mother had given her. It was pretty, and Azula didn’t like dainty things. She smiled as blue flames ate it up, leaving but a pile of ash in its stead. Wonderful. 

Bored, she played around with her flames, making little shapes. Her father would never, ever condone such frivolous use of her firebending, but he wasn’t here, was he? What he didn’t know didn’t matter. 

“Azula,” Her mother knocked on the door, but it was just a formality. Even if Azula didn’t particularly wish to see her, the woman would enter anyway. Her mother’s demeanour spoke of frustration, as her shoulders were slumped. Azula had spent enough time with the woman to know that, even if the time was rather limited. “What lies have you been telling your brother?”

“Lies? I’m wounded.” 

“Azula.” 

“About what, Mother?” Azula didn’t speak to Zuko for close to two hours. She hadn’t even spoken to him after the event in the throne room. What lies was she being accused of spreading? “You’re going to have to be specific.” 

“You told him your father was going to die,” Her mother scolded. “You know he’s sensitive, and cares a lot about his family. He’s really upset, and can’t sleep.” 

“How is that my fault?” She wanted to know, truly. “I didn’t do anything.” 

“Azula.” There was the all too familiar condescending tone she hated. 

“I did no such thing,” Azula answered, breathing even. Zuko, upset? Served the crybaby right. “I don’t know where Zuko heard this,” Lie. “But I had no hand in it,” Lie. “Mother.” 

“Don’t lie to me, young lady.” 

Azula yawned. No matter how much it hurt for her mother to disregard her words so flippantly, she was more or less used to it at this point. She did what she always did: power through with a smile. She didn’t need Mother, anyway. She had Father. 

“I’m not lying,” Azula laughed. Her mother frowned. “I didn’t tell him father was going to die. That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it? If I were going to lie, which I didn’t, I’d tell him Father loved him. We both know that’s not true.” 

Her mother scowled. “Azula, your Father cares about both of you equally. Same as I.” 

“Whatever you say.” She responded. “I don’t know why Zuko believes Father will be executed, but he might’ve gotten the idea from the conversation between the Fire Lord and Father.” 

“You shouldn’t have been listening in to that,” Her mother sighed. “What happened, exactly?” 

“Father said something positively treasonous, and Grandfather freaked. Like the coward he is, Zuko ran out. He has quite the penchant for dramatics.”

“And you didn’t?” 

“Who says I was even there to begin with?” At her mother’s unimpressed look, Azula amended her previous statement. “Fine. I left with him. I’m not sure what happens next in the story.” 

“Alright,” Ursa agreed, warily. “I’m going to talk with your Father. You will get a punishment later.” 

“For what?” Azula screeched. 

“Eavesdropping. It’s very rude.” Her mother stated, very matter-of-fact. 

“What about Zuko?” Azula asked. 

“He won’t be let off the hook, either.” At least that was reassuring. Azula shouldn’t be punished if he got off scot free. “Goodnight, Azula. Sweet dreams.” 

“Goodbye, Mother.” Azula rolled her eyes once her mother turned her back, and left. She interrogated her own daughter because Zuko, the weakling, had a bad dream? Pathetic. It’s not like she’d ever do something like that for Azula. Mother knew she was a monster, a little demon in the form of a child. She assumed the worst, and it was only true about fifty percent of the time. 

Azula, angered and annoyed, flung herself onto her mattress. She grabbed the blankets, pulling them close. 

She didn’t want to be cold. 

* * *

“Princess Azula?” A guard, someone far beneath her, screamed as he broke her door down. 

She awoke, obviously, and noticed how pitch black it still was. Some idiot thought it was appropriate to wake her before dawn? Unacceptable. 

“What is it?” She snapped. 

“Thank Agni, the Princess is safe.” A second guard yelled, his voice carrying through her room. Safe? What did they mean by that? Of course Azula was safe, she was sitting right here, completely unharmed, albeit more than a little ticked off. “Inform the Prince at once.” 

“I demand to know what is happening.” Azula ordered. The guards froze. She played around with her fire, letting it dance on her fingertips. Her reputation was well-known amongst the help, usually inspiring fear, or hesitance is her servants. Fear was something she could work with. 

“The Prince has been assassinated.” 

“My Father is dead?” She asked, a small frown adorning her features. Seems her brother wasn’t completely off with his fears, after all. Mother would be their only parent, now. For some reason, that deeply unsettled Azula. “So soon?” 

“No, your Highness.” The first one answered, slowly, drawing out every word creating unbearable suspense. “Prince Zuko was attacked in his room.” 

Her brother...was assassinated? As in, dead? The fool got himself killed off, go figure. 

Azula sucked in a breath. This meant Azula moved up in the line of succession, her Father’s perfect heir at last. A fluttering feeling, almost like butterflies, filled Azula’s stomach. This was everything she’d ever wanted, and it was just within her grasp. 

“He finally got himself killed,” She mused. Azula’s face betrayed no emotion, only a slight quirk of her lips giving away any of her thoughts. “Is the body in his room?” 

“No.” 

“Then where is it?”

“There was no body, my Princess.” 

“Then how do you know he’s dead, you idiots?” She scoffed. Of course, Zuko would find a way to mess up his own death. “Ever heard of kidnapping? Ransoms? Honestly.”

“Yes-”

“No matter. Just take me to see my Father.” 

“Of course, your Highness.” 

Azula jumped out of bed, and allowed the simpletons to escort her to her Father. She knew the way around the palace like the back of her hand, but if the assassins were still hanging around, she needed protection, and these two would work just fine. 

“Father?” She poked her head into the Throne room. On the floor, openly sobbing, was Mother, the same woman who chastised Azula earlier. Oh, how far the mighty fall. She sneered, “Mother.” 

The woman didn’t even acknowledge her. 

“Princess Azula.” He answered, his face blank. “I’m glad to see you’re alright.” 

“Of course, Father. Thank you for the concern.” 

On the throne, her Grandfather watched the scene with barely concealed disinterest. Losing a grandchild isn’t all that important, apparently. “Prince Ozai, please control your wife.”

“Ursa?” Ozai practically sneered. Her mother wiped her face, and straightened her back. A pose befitting of a Princess, as opposed to the snivelling mess she had been. 

“I must apologize, your Majesty. I let my emotions overrun my senses.” Her mother dropped into a low bow, voice strong despite the tears that rolled down her cheeks. 

“This is a tragedy. So soon after the loss of Lu Ten, as well.” Her Grandfather pointedly did not look at her Father. Interesting. “The kidnapping of the youngest Prince is a day our nation will never forget.” 

Azula would laugh, if it was socially acceptable, and from what she understood, enjoying your only brother’s disappearance was...strange, to be certain. Although, how could anyone blame her? The utter crap coming out of her Grandfather’s mouth was astounding. Zuko, unforgettable? Hilarious. She already struggled to remember the sound of his annoying voice. 

“The abduction and slaughter of the youngest Prince won’t go unpunished.” He decreed. “Those savages will pay dearly for this slight against Agni.” 

“He’s not dead,” Mother spoke up, still cowered on the floor. Tears streamed down her pretty face, but her eyes still had a bright, yet muted fire. “I know it.” 

“Quiet.” Father snarled. Mother sunk into herself. At least Azula knew where Zuko had gotten it from. 

Pathetic. 

Logically, Mother may be right. They didn’t even have a corpse left behind, Zuko was taken. 

Maybe, if she was unlucky enough, he was still alive. Azula highly doubted it, though. Her brother was many things, but smart was not one of them. The dumb-dumb couldn’t even firebend properly. His fancy little swords weren’t going to help him now. 

“What a tragedy indeed.” Even though this all worked in her favour, Azula couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy from the glint in her father’s eyes, or the small, almost insignificant splatter of blood on his clothes. 

* * *

They held a funeral two weeks later, without a body. If the idiot was alive, he would’ve shown up by then. As dramatic as he used to be, Zuko wouldn’t have passed the opportunity to crash his own funeral, like a protagonist from his favourite plays. 

Everyone had showed up for her brother’s funeral, except for Iroh. He couldn’t even be bothered to show up to his own nephew’s funeral. Such a lazy coward didn’t deserve the throne. Father would be a much better Fire Lord than the old fool. 

As the sages burned the pyre, Azula wiped her eyes, surprised to find small tear drops on her arm. She sniffled. It must’ve been from the smoke. 

Zuko didn’t deserve her sadness. 

Mother sobbed beside her, muttering about her ‘poor, poor baby boy’. It made Azula sick. She vaguely registered her Father giving a speech, and even shedding some fake tears for his dead son. 

The public would eat that up. 

If the servants heard her silent sobs that night, they never said anything. Probably too scared to. 

* * *

“Stop going easy on me,” Azula huffed. Ty Lee and Mai fell back, knives drawn in Mai’s case. “I’m not going to break if you touch me.” 

“Azula, your aura is very blue. It’s normal to be sad.” Ty Lee shook her head. “Your brother’s gone. You should be giving yourself time to grieve.” 

“I don’t care about him.” Azula spat. “He meant nothing to me.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a good liar, Azula?” Mai deadpanned. 

“Very funny, Mai. You should be a comedian.” Azula rolled her eyes. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Azula?” Ty Lee asked. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Azula snapped back. “I’m fine.” 

She regretted being so harsh when tears sprung from Ty Lee’s eyes. The other girl muttered an apology. “Sorry.” 

“Yeesh, she only asked a question.” Mai remarked, her boredom evident. “No need to be so testy.” 

“I’m not being testy, Mai. I’m great. Never been better. I’m glad even.”

“If you say so.” 

“I do. Zuko only hindered the success of the Fire Nation with his softness...with him gone...we’re looking at a much brighter future.” 

“I’m sure you don’t mean that,” Mai rolled her eyes, her voice slightly wavering. This might be the most emotion Azula has ever seen from her. Azula wanted to press on that small opening, and rip Mai apart. “He was your brother.” 

“Oh, but I do, Mai. He was pitiful, and a chain is only as strong as the weakest link. Now, Father has a strong heir, one who will bring him glory. I know you had feelings or whatever, for my inadequate brother,” She paused. “And while you won’t marry into royalty, you’ll find someone else. I’m sure your mom will find someone suitable. He might be three times your age, but you’ll manage.” 

Mai clenched her fist, but said nothing else, opting to glare at the Princess instead.

Azula continued to practice hand-to-hand combat with both of them, and if Mai was a little more aggressive than usual, no one commented on it. 

* * *

“Now that you are my only heir,” Father placed his hands on her shoulders. “You will be receiving even more training. You, already so close to perfect, will be the greatest.” 

“Of course, Father.” Azula smirked, a picture of her, sitting on the Fire Lord’s throne, projecting in her mind. It fit. “Perfection is a virtue.” 

“Correct. You will be starting lightning control, soon. I will teach you myself.” 

“Wonderful, Father. I’m grateful for your guidance.” 

“My perfect heir.” Her father’s smile might’ve been a little too tight, his eyes a little too wild. “Your name will go down in history as the most powerful Princess there ever was. The world will burn, just as it should, and you will be right by my side, where you belong.” 

Azula couldn’t judge him for his ambition, or dead expression. She saw the exact same thing in the mirror. 

* * *

Her failure of an uncle returned around a year or so after...the incident. He had been shocked when he was informed of Zuko’s passing. Sad, even. He wallowed in his own guilt for days, inconsolable. 

_(“What’s he doing?” Azula asked, her head tilted to the side. Her uncle had retreated to his chambers, not long after being informed of Zuko’s fate. “Drinking tea?”_

_“Your Uncle,” Father spat, voice laced with disdain. This, Azula thought, is who the Fire Nation needed as Fire Lord. “Is a pathetic excuse of a Crown Prince. He’s crying over your brother’s death.”_

_“His weakness is absolutely astounding, Father.” Azula answered. “He brings shame to the royal family.”_

_“Correct, Princess Azula. He is an example of what not to do, and who not to be.”)_

It was what he deserved, truly. He abandoned the siege, bringing disgrace to the nation, for his son. How many other sons were killed? He was a coward, and a hypocrite. 

He mourned his little nephew, the one who’s funeral he couldn't be bothered to attend. He wouldn’t feel that way if Azula had been the one killed. “Princess Azula, would you care to join me for some tea and a game of Pai Sho?” 

“I’d rather not, Uncle.” Azula slapped on an amicable expression, hiding the instinctual sneer. “I’m rather busy with my firebending training.” 

“No time to spare for your old Uncle?” He laughed, a little too loud to be genuine. 

Azula knew the fatso just wanted to replace his dead son and nephew. Azula was not second best, or in this case third. She wouldn’t be some consolation prize for some old, washed up fool. She wouldn’t play Pai Sho with him. 

She’s had around a year to grow stronger, and better. She doesn’t need nor want his conditional love and approval. 

“I’m afraid not.” She winced in sympathy, the act of the regretful niece coming easily. “I’ve got to perfect my lightning.” 

“Firebending, you say? I know a few moves, myself. Perhaps I could show you some.” 

“I must _respectfully_ decline, Uncle.” 

“Ah, I see.” He patted his stomach. “I’ll be off then. It was nice to see you, Princess Azula.” 

Azula lied through her teeth, a pleasant little smile planted on her face. “And you, Uncle.” 

* * *

“Zhao has confirmed the previously unfounded rumours,” Father sat to the right of the Fire Lord, who’d only grown weaker over time. Any day now, he’d drop dead, and Iroh would succeed him. A horror story, in the making. The war meeting with the other generals, and high ranking officials had been boring, before he deigned to speak up. Azula herself sat to the left of the Fire Lord, and had to pinch herself to keep awake. “The Avatar has indeed returned, and is accompanied by two water savages. He was last seen headed North, for the second Water Tribe.” 

The silence of the war room, broken in an instance. The generals took turns yelling petty insults at each other, in some sort of contest of wits. Dimwits, that is. 

The Avatar, a long sought after myth, thought to be dead, has returned to the land of the living. Azula wondered what little hole he crawled out of. No matter. The Avatar wouldn’t be a problem for much longer. 

As much as Azula disliked Zhao—he was far too unpredictable, which made him dangerous—he knew how to get something done. The Avatar would be taken to the Fire Nation in chains, brought low before the Fire Lord, and her Father. Where he belonged. 

“Zhao is a fool if he thinks we’ll support his wild goose chase,” One of the generals admonished. Azula sighed, as that was the wrong thing to say. “He’ll say anything to get the backing of the royal family.” 

“You dare question my authority?” Father asked, deceptively light. “Are you insinuating that Zhao would be able to manipulate me? Not only do you mean to insult me, but you would disrespect the word of the Fire Lord, your Agni chosen monarch?” 

“No-” 

“You should tread carefully, General. I’d hate to see something happen to you, or your family. Such lovely people, especially your wife, Akiko.” 

“Are you threatening me, Prince Ozai?” 

“No, these are merely my musings,” The youngest living Prince paused, “Even if I was, you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, General.” 

“Enough!” Fire Lord Azulon yelled, his weak voice echoing through the chamber. He heaved, “We will not infight like spoiled children.” 

“Of course, Father.” Prince Ozai agreed, and even though he was scolded, he still had the signature smirk on his face. Azula stayed silent as the exchange happened, much happier watching. “The Avatar will be brought before us, and kept locked up, where he won’t bother us ever again. If Zhao fails, my daughter will go after the Avatar herself.” 

“Your daughter? The Princess is but a child.” 

“A child more skilled than you.” 

“I’d be happy to fulfill my duty to the Fire Nation,” Azula cut in, her tone sharp. “As the Princess, it is only expected.” 

“Naturally, your Highness. I didn’t mean to offend-” 

“Then it is decided,” The Prince said, cutting the general off before he could stammer out an apology. “Princess Azula will deal with the Avatar should Zhao fail.” 

“And I will not fail.” Azula smirked, as she wrapped blue flames around her fist. She almost wanted Zhao to screw up, just to capture the Avatar herself. “Of that, you can be assured.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I lied. This is the official end of arc 1. Mwahaha.  
> **Ursa may be a good mother to Zuko, but she leaves a lot to be desired with Azula. Our poor, poor terrifying fire child has mommy issues for sure.


End file.
